Give Way
by Kanarah J
Summary: The detachment from his former home has left Sora with a bitter sweet feeling. However, with his new roommate Riku's biting past, the move is likely to give him more than a new address.
1. The Blade of Grass

Greetings! I hope you all are doing well. As you can see, story number five has made its way into my little collection, and Mamma hopes her baby can get along well with all the other little children in the class room. ;3

I wrote this after deciding that Riku's eyes were so attractive they simply had to be written about properly. I played around with the idea for a while, and quickly decided that a few thousand words about Riku's "orbs" (Oh I do HATE that word...) would not do. So, Viola, another apartment fic. I know what you're saying. I have added another one into the pot of apartment fics stew that is already on the verge of overflowing, but I've changed my writing a little, and used my noodle, so maybe mine is more of a soup? Haha!

At any rate, I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own the rich cup of steaming hot chocolate that is Kingdom hearts, but if I did, I'd drink every drop ;3

* * *

Give Way

"Sora, I've spent far too much time looking for the perfect one for you to back out now!"

"Maybe it's not such a good idea. Maybe I should just unpack everything and move back at home. Mom probably has dinner ready, and I really—"

"Sora!" Kairi gripped the sides of his face. "You are moving out, and that's final!"

"But–"

"No buts! Do you really want to be that creepy thirty year old that lives in his parents' house, watching the neighborhood kids through the window?"

He looked at her incredulously. "What? What creepy thirty year old?"

"The point is, you're going, and I'm going to help you load the car."

Sora sighed, pushing his hands in his pockets. It was the big day, the one he had dreamed about for years.

He was moving.

He had decided a while ago that he was reaching the age where parental supervision wasn't necessary anymore. Kairi, several months his junior, had already fled the nest and she was urging him to do the same...in that less than subtle way of hers.

"Sora! You're just standing there!"

His parents hadn't been too bothered by the idea, in fact, Sora ventured to say they encouraged him. He didn't quite know if he liked their reaction, as making a big deal out of their baby boy tearing himself from the warmth and safety of Mommy and Daddy's embrace was what he was kind of looking forward to.

"I'm coming!"

But no, they patted him on the back and handed him the newspaper. What kind of parents _casually_ ejected their precious son out of the home like some house guest that had overstayed his welcome?

But none of that mattered right now, because here he was, standing out on his front lawn, possibly seeing it the last time for a long while.

It was nearly traumatizing.

"How do you know I'll even like it?" He shuffled toward a box marked "Things I should have thrown away a long time ago, but didn't" and heaved it into the back seat. "What if you're wrong this time?!"

Kairi wiped a bit of perspiration from her forehead and hefted another box. "Sora, I've known you better than you've known yourself since we were three. You'll love it, just like you loved the pictures I showed you. Besides, if you don't like it—which you will—you have only yourself to blame."

"I thought I explained that already."

Kairi smirked, ready to open the can of worms Sora had packed himself into. "Oh you did, quite well, actually. The thought of looking for your _own_ apartment gave you a nervous breakdown, so I had to do it for you."

Sora shrugged. So maybe the whole "looking for a suitable place to live" wasn't his forte, however he _did_ give the search an honest try.

He had tried as hard as he could to look for an apartment. He had a little red pen and the newspaper in front of him, ready to attack any possible availability. However, that was about as far as he got, because after a few circles, he did have that aforementioned nervous breakdown. "Not in so many words..."

"If I remember correctly, I believe the move was your idea anyway. Didn't you say something about how it was _'time to make your mark in the world,' _or, _'real men don't live with their parents. They make their own rules.'" _She smirked.

Sora quickly busied himself with locking and unlocking the door with the remote. "I don't remember that conversation."

"Of course not. Your Y chromosome erases any and all unflattering memories you may have. That's why you'll love your room mate. You both have the same birth defect."

He stuck his tongue out at her and Kairi smiled sweetly. "Come on, you have another half dozen boxes and a closet full of clothes that still need to be loaded in."

When the final box had been secured—and, importuned by Sora, buckled in—it was late in the evening. Kairi was absolutely shaking with excitement, and Sora was just shaking.

"That's the last of it!" She said with a grin. Now, get your skinny butt in that car and get out of here!"

His little blue car sat out on the side of the street, as the driveway had been occupied with Sora's belongings. It looked so sad, so lonely...so _depressing._

The moment he closed that driver's seat door, he would be closing out the sunshine, the childhood memories and the familiarity that he held so tightly in his heart. It was like sitting inside his own coffin...

Never again would his eyes see the same blade of grass as he was seeing it now, so perfect, so welcoming. Sure, he could come back, but it just wouldn't be the same. That blade of grass would grow, then get hacked off by his father's lawn mower, only for it to grow back again. The cycle would continue without him!

Why?!

Kairi rolled her eyes. "Sora, if you don't stop thinking so loud I'm going to go deaf. I can tell just by looking at you you're having another crazy string of thoughts." She frowned. "And stop staring at the grass like that!"

What was it about women and their lack of sentiment? He acknowledged her with a groan. "Just let me say goodbye to my parents, alright?"

"No!" She shoved him toward the car door. "You've said goodbye to them each time you went in the house to get something else to load. They know you're leaving!"

"But—"

"Yes, put it in the car!"

His lower lip jutted out and Kairi patted him on the head. "Look, just call me if you need anything, alright?"

He nodded. "Okay." He gave the yard one, final loving prod. "I...um...I guess I'm outta here. Bye...jerk."

"So long, loser!"

And with that, he started the car, and it inched down the road, several miles under the speed limit. Kairi shook her head. She supposed she'd expect the first phone call in a few hours.

* * *

Sora had just driven out of the residential area before he made the first call. The second was when he nearly missed his exit on the highway. The third was during his panic attack, induced after discovering that the gas station where he was didn't carry peach soda like the one at home did. It was about here that Kairi threatened to rip the phone from the jack if he ever called her again.

It took a lot of effort on his part not to call her anyway.

The phone sank deep in his pocket as he leaned against the car while filling it with gas. The gas he really didn't need, but the break that went with it was tempting enough.

He had read the papers over and over again, seen the picture of the apartment so many times that it had become dog-eared. It was clean and perfect, just how he hoped it would be...but...

It was so far away! Going to the grocery store half a block from his house was an adventure to Sora, so a place that wasn't even in the same town was like a trip to the moon. He wouldn't be with his parents anymore. He'd be living with some stranger...a Riku something-or-other, who could have been an axe-murderer for all he knew.

Here he was, on this lonely stretch of road, headed for what he would soon call home. He entertained the thought of going back, just to see his old house; maybe peek in and check up on things, get in a last goodbye, well, _another_ last goodbye.

After all, he wouldn't be returning soon, so he wanted to make sure every inch of the place was burned into his memory. The livingroom, the kitchen, his bedroom. His bedroom...His bedroom! He had been gone only a few hours and already he thought he had forgotten what his old room looked like!

How many posters did he have on the wall?

Was the carpet manilla, or cream?

Did his door still squeak when he closed it at night?

He couldn't forget his old room. It was where he did everything, in fact...wait, when did it become an _old _room? It was still his. They were trying to take it away from him, make it part of the past! He wasn't ready for it to be old; he hadn't even seen his _new_ bedroom yet!

It was as though his trip was tearing a rift in the space-time continuum. The more miles he put behind him, the bigger the hole until it sucked down his house; the livingroom, kitchen and his bedroom with it's squeaky door and cream (or was it manilla?) carpeting.

Sora was certain another panic attack was going to set in. He rummaged around in his pocket for the cell phone he shouldn't have been using. After retrieving it, he squeezed it hard in his hands, flipped it open and dialed the first three digits.

Then he felt something wet on his shoe.

Looking down with a start, he realized he had overfilled the car and gas was trickling down the side of the car and onto his feet.

Perfect.

Sora flipped the phone closed and put the nozzle back in the cradle. Maybe he'd wait a little longer before he called again.

* * *

Hours had gone by, and light was scarce. The dull hum of traffic on either side was monotonous, and the temperature inside the car was moderate . It was under these conditions that most drivers would have a hard time staying awake, but not Sora.

He didn't need a half liter of espresso or a few capsules of no-doze to keep him awake. No, he had the _distinct_ aroma of gasoline wafting about his person to staunch any and all ideas of sleep before they even entered his subconscious.

It was about the time that the smell of gas had started to annoy him that he entered the only residential area he had seen since he had left home. Apartments lined the side of the road like vanilla candles that had just been lit. The yards were prim and clean, just how Sora liked them, and there wasn't a blemish on a single welcome mat.

Maybe Kairi was right—she usually was. Sora might like this neighborhood after all.

Unfurling the crumpled stack of papers he reviewed the address and the picture of the apartment. It should be another block over, he thought.

There, a particularly vanilla-candle-esque looking building sat on the corner. The dim porch light was sophisticated, yet welcoming. He had mixed feelings. It wasn't too late to go back home...well, actually it was, but it seemed like an appropriate thought.

The parking lot he drove in had a series of small garages, unmarked and ownerless. Perhaps it was a sort of first come, first serve basis, which made him wilt a little, as most residents had probably claimed one.

There, in the corner, almost hidden from view was a space, which Sora thought little about using.

He shifted his little blue car in park, and made his way to the entrance to get his paperwork situated with the landlord.

All too quickly the golden key had been dropped into his palm, with the number 173 etched eloquently onto the front.

This was it, here he was. The elevator zipped him up to the proper floor and by then, his legs were shaking.

Precariously, he made his way down the hall, 170, 171, 172. Then he was standing in front of it, his own white door with gold numbers. His own door with squeaky hinges, his own shade of off-white carpeting, the name to which he could have a proper mental argument over.

With all the courage he could muster, which—quite frankly wasn't much—he lifted his heavy fist to the sturdy wood and gave it a quick rap before plunging the key in the hole and twisting. The door opened, and like a portal of light cutting through darkness, the room was revealed and his roommate sat casually on the couch.

"Hey," He said without turning around. "You must be Sora."

* * *

Love it? Hate it? I'd love to know all of your thoughts! Send 'em my way via the little button to your lower left! 


	2. 173

Hello all! As you can see, it took me a while to pop this sucker out, but through endless tediousness it's done! I had to do a lot of thinking to get everything situated how I wanted.

Sometimes I want a beard just so I can have something to rub while I'm pondering my outlines. XD

At any rate, please enjoy.

* * *

Sora gulped hard. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself with a bad first impression, but the bundle of nerves wrestling around in his stomach and the odor of gasoline wafting about his person made it difficult.

"Yeah...er...that's me."

"Riku," he said simply, rising from the couch. He met Sora at the doorway, and extended his hand.

Sora inspected it for traces of blood or any other tell-tale evidence of an axe murder related past, but to his relief, he didn't find any. With an uncomfortable smile, he grabbed hold of his hand and shook.

He glanced around the room, taking in the space he would be sharing for the next...however long he could stand it, and after a quick once over, he decided that he would be able to stand it for a long time.

The floor was the desirable shade of off white, but the rest was entirely different from his old home. His old livingroom he remembered, was a sort of warm, inviting rose color, with rich mahogany furniture stippled with dents and cracks. The medium sized television sitting on a plastic stand had tape over the buttons so they wouldn't fall out.

Here, the walls were a fresh waxen yellow with orange rag-rolled accents. White crown molding swooped along the ceiling where a few bulb shaped lamps attached to the wall with golden holds. There was no tape on the TV, which was, as a side note, gigantic.

It was shockingly different, and quite possibly the most expensive looking apartment Sora had ever seen–not that he had seen many apartments—it was still something he thought he could get used to.

It was clean, and perfect, like he had dreamed—and Kairi insisted—it would be.

"So...er...nice place." Sora ventured, scanning the room for a dirty shovel or an unusual amount of rope lying around. (After all, one could never be too careful).

Riku didn't look at him. "I'd hope so. You're paying for half of it."

"Oh...right."

He smiled, but it was directed toward the floor."You're friend...Kairi was it? She said you'd like it, though I find it a little strange that _you_ weren't the one looking around."

"Oh...well, about that..." He scratched the back of his head searching for an logical yet creative lie. It only made sense that one eluded him now. "Yeah...she's my...house scout."

Sora could almost see the gigantic question mark sprouting right above Riku's mop of hair. At least it was creative...

"House scout?"

"Yeah...they're really...useful."

"I can imagine."

Sora wanted to get off that subject as soon as possible. The last thing he wanted was for this Riku character to think he was incapable of finding himself a house; shy, weak, easily subdued. If it came down to it, He wanted Riku to know that Sora would put up the fight of the century before he was dragged off behind some random shed and chopped to bits.

It was about this moment that Sora noticed something particularly odd about his roommate's appearance.

It wasn't that the silver hair _didn't_ make him look old, or that he was wearing pajamas when he greeted his guest. It was that not once during the entire conversation did Riku's eyes meet his, or his face for that matter.

Sora tilted his head sideways. Now that he thought about it, it was very strange. However, he didn't appear to be staring at his anatomy in an inappropriate or otherwise offensive way, or that he was so disgusted with Sora's appearance that he couldn't bear to look at him either.

His eyes seemed to drift_ around_ Sora's head, or off to the side at the wall behind him. So, Sora was led to only one logical conclusion.

"Kairi didn't tell me you were blind."

"What?!" Riku's mouth hung open so wide that Sora was sure a Kawasaki Ki-45 Toryu would fly out and fire at his head. It made him a little bit uncomfortable.

His mouth closed after a moment. "She probably didn't tell you because I'm _not_."

Sora's expression was sympathetic, but none the less relieved. There weren't too many murderers out there that couldn't see. The poor guy was embarrassed. "Look man, I have no animosity toward your condition whatsoever."

Riku closed his eyes. "Good, because I don't have a condition."

"It's okay. Really."

"Look Sora, I can see. You're wearing jeans, you haven't combed your hair in days, and your running shoes are yellow, though not automobile-esque in the slightest, smell strongly of gasoline."

Sora regarded that last part with a sharp cough. "Oh, well, then...er...sorry."

Riku rolled his eyes and headed to the back of the small apartment. "Why on earth..." He muttered.

Sora followed him, feeling somewhat idiotic. However, despite his slight recoil, he didn't like being muttered about. "You could at least look someone in the eye when they're talking to you!"

"Why would _blindness_ be your first assumption? Maybe I'm was looking at a spider on the wall, or hey, maybe I'm shy." Riku headed into a closet retrieving a pile of sheets.

Sora crossed his arms. "Well, was there a spider?"

"No."

"Are you shy?"

"Not really."

Sora was really about to lose it now. "Then what's your problem?!"

Riku paused for a moment, then shrugged and headed to another closet for a few pillows. "Force of habit." Quickly he changed the subject. "Hey, are you a goose feather or a polyester person?"

Sora sighed. "Polyester."

The pile of sheets and pillows was dumped into Sora's arms. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. So, you live pretty far away?"

Sora cringed. His parents' house seemed like it was on another continent. "Yeah. I have to say, this place is quite a bit different."

Riku headed down the hall again, all the way to the back. "Different good or different bad?"

"Um...different I-haven't-decided-yet."

Riku shrugged, looking at him in a sort of not-looking-at-him kind of way. "Well, then I guess I'll show you around." He opened one of the doors at the back of the short hallway. "My room is on the right, yours is on the left." He wrenched the golden knob open, and never in Sora's wildest dreams would he have imagined such a stunning room.

The mattress was bare, as expected, but the walls were beige with the same white molding as the living room. There was a bathroom, which Sora didn't even bother to go in for lack of nerve, and enough closet space to house Kairi's entire collection of shoes and matching hand bags.

Sora dumped his pillows and sheets onto the bed. "Show me more!"

Riku led him through the general areas of the house, the kitchen, and the balcony, from which Sora could see the car port, and the coat closet. Most of the house was empty, as Riku didn't have a lot of personal belongings. Sora, however, had enough to fill in the rest of the empty space.

"That's it," Riku said, taking note of the carpet.

"I like it." Sora smiled. "I like it a lot." Just then, a dull, flat chime from the clock on the wall announced the hour.

Ten.

Riku yawned. "Do you mind if we bring your stuff in tomorrow? It's kind of late."

Sora nodded. "Right. Well, I'll see you in the morning then?"

"Right."

The two headed down the hallway into their respective rooms, but Sora didn't fall asleep at first. He flopped down on the mattress—the silky-smooth, extra fluffy luxury mattress—and kicked his bedding off over to the side. This would have been the perfect time to call Kairi, however he didn't exactly feel compelled to do it.

Were the few hours he spent away from home hardening him into a man?

Could he finally go to sleep without being tucked in at night?

He snorted mentally. Whatever it was, he was tired, and didn't have the energy to analyze it.

He snatched the pillow off the mound of sheets and crammed it under his head. Tomorrow he would be officially moved in, and his life as an adult would finally start.


	3. Teddy Bear

Hello Everyone! I haven't been updating very often, as you can tell. Recently, the snooze button on my alarm clock has been a tad more inviting than the key board!

Anyway, here I am! I've cleared my schedule! This means I've finally beaten Final Fantasy XII in it's entirety (Minus that stupid rare mark crap and the fishing mini-game). I also finished my costume for Anime Festival Wichita. I had a blast. I hand made my costume of Ashelia Dalmasca, and Hito me Bore went as Balthier. She won a master's runner up for craftsman ship, even though she and I entered as Intermediate! YAY! No prizes for me I'm afraid, but better luck...at Naka-kon!

Also, Cloud's birthday was last weekend. Everyone wish him a big happy 31! (Or if you're going by the KH calendar, he's what...24...25? Whatever.)

Anyway, please read and review! I love you all!

* * *

As Sora trudged to the kitchen the next morning, he found himself weary and for the most part, out of it.

He would have stayed in bed several hours later, had it not been for the simple reality that all of his belongings were still in his car.

If he stayed asleep until his usual hour of rising, the sun would have baked all the contents of his car to an lethal temperature (and the sands of time would have ebbed away at his car until it was nothing but powder, His room mate would have moved away to have _great, great, great _grand children, Computers would have replaced pets, and all structures created by man would have been coated in a more economical, more efficient chromium gloss).

"Morning." Riku said without looking up. He was sitting at the table with the paper. "There's coffee in the pot if you want some."

Sora muttered a 'thanks' and helped himself to a large mug of it. He was going to need some energy if he was going to unload all of his belongings today.

"So, you're one of those early risers, huh?"

Riku shrugged. "Yeah."

"Kairi is too. I find it...pointless."

Riku shrugged again, keeping his gaze on the paper. "It sort of helps if you want to get anything done...or get to work on time."

"Right...well...er...yeah. Um...where do you work?"

"The café down the street," Riku said, draining his coffee and setting his newspaper in the paper bin. "It's not fancy, but it pays well."

"Are they hiring?"

"No."

"Plan on quitting?"

"...No."

"What about getting fired?"

Riku stared at the table very pointedly. "I'm just going to assume you're still tired."

Sora ignored the remark and waved. "Hey, I'm up here."

"I know where you are."

"That's obvious...especially since you're staring at the table."

"...Whatever." He got up and put his mug in the sink. "Where do _you_ work?"

Sora tipped his head toward the ceiling. It was far to early to come up with a suitable lie. Instead, he crossed his arms and shouted proudly "I live off the fat of the land."

Riku rolled his eyes."So you don't have a job."

"Temporarily."

Riku chose not to pursue the subject, as he wasn't interested in arguing Sora's job situation. He would give him the benefit of the doubt and let him figure things out in his own way.

Sora yawned, setting his own mug of coffee in the sink. "I'm gonna go unload my car." The expression of misery on his face was just as obvious as a splatter of ink on a blank page, and Riku couldn't help but feel the slightest bit sympathetic.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall. "I've got a little time left. I can help you if you want."

* * *

The sun had risen just enough so that the two could make their way around the parking lot without running into each other. The air was cool, but not unpleasant, but for Sora, who rarely rose before the hottest part of the day, it was freezing.

Rubbing his arms for warmth, he made his way to the parking garage.

Sora had parked far off in some corner, therefore the process of unloading seemed far more daunting than it should have been. With a sigh, he pulled the remote from his pocket and unlocked the doors.

The hatch opened like a space pod, and the odd assortment of supplies, sacks, bags and boxes of who-knew-what looked very similar to Martians. Riku was very carefulnot to point it out.

Sora however was far more concerned with the condition of his belongings. If _anything_ had broken, he would be sure to throw a monstrous hissy fit right there in the middle of the lot.

He was surprised to find that unlike most things he touched, everything was in order.

"Be careful, my stuff is fragile." He hefted a rather large box labeled "Things-I've-taken-from-Kairi" and headed back toward the apartment. Riku followed suit, grabbing another box with an oddly specific label, and heading toward the room.

It didn't take the pair long to bring in Sora's things, though there were a lot. A pile of boxes had started to accumulate in the middle of the doorway, so the sacks, and cases of clothing had to be set on the furniture. The pots and pans Sora brought along sat in cases on the table, and the bag of toiletries was teetering on the edge of the counter.

Riku followed Sora back out to the car to retrieve another box. A teddy bear's head poked out from the crack in the top.

He had been careful thus far not to comment on Sora's belongings, as he didn't want to be rude. But honestly, the boy had some strange objects. He had seen old baby clothes, an African war mask, and an odd looking gadget that looked like a cross between a broom and an egg beater.

However, the teddy bear seemed harmless enough, and he couldn't stop himself from pointing it out. "A teddy bear?" Riku asked, tilting his head at the extra stitches and stuffing oozing from the ear.

"That's right," Sora replied, throwing a sack over his shoulder.

"I had one of these once...circa birth."

Sora scowled. "I don't use it anymore! It's just...you know, for..."

Riku shook his head. "I really don't want to know."

Sora continued to scowl as he retreated back into the house. Riku followed him and set the box, and the bear on the couch.

Stretching, Riku made his way to the door again, however not to retrieve another box. "I should get going. Think you can handle the rest by yourself?

"I think I can manage." Sora sighed, flopping onto the couch. "See you later."

Riku waved, leaving Sora to wallow in his own pile of possessions, wondering how on earth he had accumulated so much. Perhaps he could have left some of that back at his parent's house...

* * *

Riku strolled down the street, running a hand through his hair. How he had ensnared himself into this room mate situation, he would never know.

He always pictured himself living _without_ the company of people for the rest of his life. It wasn't the warmest of thoughts, but one he quickly adjusted to, as he didn't bother to make any real effort to recruit room mates.

It wasn't that he didn't like people, or...whatever Sora was either. In fact, he rather liked the company. Sora was...interesting. He hadn't even known him twenty four hours yet, and already he had a very strong fondness for the boy.

And it wasn't that he didn't want to share his space either. The apartment was getting to be too quiet anyway, and he could use the extra help paying for the room.

In fact, there wasn't anything about his present situation that he particularly disfavored or that he couldn't adjust to.

But...the feeling was clear.

He had never lived with anyone since he moved out of his father's house.

The sidewalk ended, cut in half by a bustling intersection. He crossed precariously, as the last time he crossed the street here, a taxi had ignored the red light and nearly clipped his shoulder.

His past wasn't something Riku brought up often. He purposely avoided bringing up those memories. In fact, the last time he even thought about it after he moved away from his father's, was when Sora made that comment about his eyes.

He was caught off guard for a second, but quickly shrugged the moment off. If he could help it, Sora wouldn't have to know anything, and his life could continue unhitched.

He would have to be more careful now, more conscious of his actions and habits.

He would have to adjust living with another person again.

Habitually, his eyes stayed on the ground, and he headed down the other sidewalk toward the café.

The little bell on the door jingled when he entered, where he was greeted with a green apron flying in the general direction of his person. Catching it, he noticed the manager standing behind the counter arms akimbo, smiling smugly.

"You cut it close today." He inclined his head toward the clock, which was dangerously close to moving past the hour.

"Sorry." Riku muttered, sliding the apron on and heading off to the back. "I had to help my new roommate move in this morning."

The manager's expression shifted. "Oh, you mean the one you mentioned that was coming last week, with the girl who kept asking what shade of white your carpet was?"

"That's the one."

"Well, good luck with that. Hey, make up another batch of Pommes a Four. We ran out yesterday."

Riku nodded, and opened the door to the back.

"The Filter" was a small café down the street from Riku—and now Sora's—apartment. It was homey, but had a distinct classic French decor. It smelled of strong coffee and cinnamon, and the warm lighting with dark, hard wood furniture made it a sort of early morning hug for those that weren't exactly eager for a day at the office.

Riku, however, spent most of his time in the back. With the cold steel counters and creaking metal ovens, the kitchen hardly compared to the front when it came to decorum, however Riku preferred it anyway.

He rolled his sleeves, washed his hands, and began the task of peeling an entire sack of apples.

* * *

Sora was bored. Granted, he did have an enormous pile of _everything_ to situate, but one look down at his feet propped on a box of knitting supplies, and he dismissed the possibility of ever touching another box ever again. (At least until Riku got home).

He was very close to heading back to his bedroom to have a post-morning nap, but then again, there was an enormous television sitting right in front of him, with enough buttons on the remote to keep him flipping channels for hours.

A small smile curved around his lips as he hunted for the small, multi-buttoned device. He was sure it was sitting snugly underneath his stack of coloring books, but was horrified to discover it was just the news paper; oddly enough rolled to the classified section.

He vaguely remembered Riku throwing it away that morning, but then Sora had taken it out some time ago to read the comics.

He blew a plume of air up toward the ceiling as he unfurled the unwanted pile of newsprint, and figured that if he wasn't going to clean up the clutter, he might as well look for employment.

* * *

Hehe! As usual, I didn't like this chapter, but I hope you do! Please read and review! 


	4. Letters

Hello everyone! It's been a while. Sorry. So many things have taken priority over updating and...well...er...

Chapter four is up, however it's really not as spectacular as I had hoped. It's really rather mundane. Personally, I like chapter five better (It will be posted next week...maybe). More action-ey bits. Reviews of all kinds will be accepted and appreciated.

On with the story!

XxX

In the end, Sora managed to snag a job at some department store restocking shelves or whatever else they invented for him to do. His job was similar to Riku's; not fancy, but well paying. He had been working for about a week or so, and already he had made enough to cover a fair amount of the month's rent.

As for the boxes on the floor, Riku had come home every day to the monstrous pile without saying a word, but Sora could tell the slow progress of his moving was starting to ebb at his nerves.

He had tripped on a box of books, fallen on a can of car freshener, and banged into a radio hidden behind a hanging jacket all on his way from his bedroom to the kitchen. Sora apologized furiously, but Riku just nodded his head and dismissed the whole matter.

The two were getting along beautifully.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Sora asked again, as Riku hunted around the kitchen for the eighth day in a row for his coffee pot. It hadn't occurred to him that Sora would use the counter to house his collection of post cards.

"I'm fine." He muttered. "And you have no idea what happened to my coffee pot?"

Sora shook his head. In all actuality, he had a pretty good idea where it was, but the thought of digging through all of the piles of paper he had yet to store in the file cabinet in the livingroom, made him reluctant to mention it. "I'll have all of this out of your way by the time you get home tonight."

It was on his tongue to say "That's what you said yesterday," but Riku held back and sighed instead. "Alright. I'll just get something at work."

"I promise, I'll have it all cleaned up." Sora offered again. Riku dismissed him and headed for the door.

Sora waved, but as usual, Riku didn't look at him, and the whole gesture went unnoticed.

Sighing, he set himself down at the kitchen table and began shuffling papers around to give some order to the place. Riku struck Sora as the tidy type, and he knew all the clutter was driving him up the walls.

He intended to have the whole place spic and span.

He had the day off today, and could spend the entire day—_minimum_—putting the place back in the proper order.

Then again, there was that TV sitting all by itself in the livingroom...

Sora shook his head. No distractions. He was not about to have Riku coming home _again_ to such a pile of wreckage.

The last thing he wanted to do was annoy his roommate—any _further_—so he set to work, putting coats in closets, books on shelves, and papers in drawers.

The kitchen itself was what Riku described quite eloquently as a "disaster area left behind after a lion riding a tornado reenacted World War One with a tiger sitting on a hurricane." Sora however, thought that the tiger should have been a rabbit and the Lion should have been kitten, but the tornado and Hurricane aspect of the analogy seemed fairly accurate.

Scooping up a pile of post cards, he heaved them into the file cabinet he brought along, and brought the whole thing into his room.

Suddenly, the counters were visible.

Something black and shiny was sticking out from a pile of envelopes and it caught Sora's attention. A smile worked it's way across his face, and he unearthed the object as if it were a fragile earthenware pot from the ancient fertile crescent. Holding it up so it caught the light, Sora's grin widened.

Where were his car keys?

XxX

Riku stood over a baking pan full of Profiteroles au chocolat, wondering where on earth he put the heavy cream, when the manager burst through the door.

"Hey, Riku, someone here wants to see you." He disappeared behind the door.

Riku sighed. Wherever that cream was, it would have to wait, he supposed. Dusting his hands off on his apron, he followed out the door to the front of the café.

Riku really didn't like the front of the café much. The small space and high concentration of people made him uncomfortable, and as usual, the place was crowded to almost maximum capacity. How he kept up with all of baking was a feat that Riku himself couldn't even understand. He scanned the small area closely, but couldn't find anyone he knew.

The manager, who was standing at the register, rolled his eyes. "He's at the counter."

Riku glanced at the counter, and there swinging his legs back and forth like a child at an amusement park...was Sora.

Riku was very close to smacking his head with his hand, however the curiosity for his visiting roommate thankfully distracted that notion and led him to walk over.

Sora was having a dandy time staring at the glass box of pastries. Never before had he seen such a wide variety of fancy sugar coated goods, and he made the decision right then and there to purchase something with chocolate.

"Sora?" Riku said studying the counter top. "What are you doing here?"

Sora grinned. "I had something to tell you, but right now I'm deciding which item with chocolate in it I want."

Riku sighed. "Well, there's plenty to choose from. Take your time."

...And he did. He carefully scanned each pastry until he nearly memorized every flaky, golden brown square inch, mentally calculating the amount of chocolate and sugar in each.

After a few moments, he finally decided, and turned toward Riku who was impatiently staring at an empty plate of eclairs.

"Hey, I think I want..." He stopped in mid sentence, noticing Riku had a smudge of white on his cheek, and several more covering his apron. His appearance was almost laughable, but since Sora was such a classy guy, he didn't so much as chuckle. Instead, he dead-panned "You're covered in flour."

Riku's mouth hung open in much the same way as when Sora had assumed he was blind: wide.

"Um Sora, I'm always covered in flour. I'm _baking, _which I might add, you caught me in the middle of. So, if you don't mind—"

"You BAKE?!" Sora's eyes widened. The image of a debonnaire waiter with a waistcoat and shiny black shoes was quickly erased from his mind into a cloud of mental chalk dust.

Riku figured he should take this nice and slow. He had learned in the few weeks that Sora was as slow on the uptake as he was cleaning up the living room.

"Yes."

"And you made...all of this?" He waved his hands in the general direction of the counter, which Riku took to mean the desserts.

"Yes."

"Wow." Sora kicked his feet even harder. "This is impressive."

Riku smiled. "Thank you. Now, what was it you wanted?"

"Oh, right." Sora rummaged around in a sack sitting on the floor. Lifting it up onto the counter, his eyes glinted mischievously. "Behold, I have found the lost treasure, the artifact that has kept man alive and kicking for thousands of years!"

Bemused, Riku crossed his arms. "Well?"

"Do not fear sir, for all will be revealed..." He paused for dramatic affect then crunched the sack around the object revealing it in all its sleek and shiny glory.

"I have found the missing coffee pot!" Sora bellowed, bringing attention to himself from surrounding patrons.

Riku wasn't sure how to react. He was grateful that his beloved coffee maker had been found, but perplexed as to why Sora would walk all the way down here _with_ said coffee maker just to show it to him.

He settled on gratitude and left the rest to think on later for a little amusement while rolling out the filo dough.

"Thanks."

"No problem." Sora kicked his feet again, and jumped out of the chair. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah...bye."

Sora trotted out the door, and Riku was left shaking his head. Sora had such an interesting _disposition_. He almost wanted him to stay for a little while longer.

Then he realzed Sora hadn't actually purchased anything.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his manager. He would be at him soon if he didn't get back to work, so he made his way to the kitchen and continued to hunt for that missing cream.

XxX

Twilight had set in, and the sky was a sort of muddled orange-purple. Riku was thankful as he headed down the sidewalk, that traffic had slowed down and the possibilities of getting run over had decreased.

He always preferred the walk home. It was quieter, more serene. If he were the brooding type, he would have had a field day.

The sidewalk ended and he crossed the street. He could see the apartment now. The lights were on, casting the dull white building in a warm yellow glow.

He headed to his room and opened the door, where he was surprised to see that he could _open_ it, moreover he could actually walk across the livingroom without tripping and falling flat on his face.

It came as such a shock to him that he couldn't even speak. Sora was standing on the balcony watching from outside as Riku picked his way around like he had been transported to a different country. He finally came out to meet him when he thought Riku was going to start dancing.

"What do you think?" Sora asked casually, sitting himself down on the couch.

Riku stared at the floor in amazement. "It's...unbelievable. I never thought I'd see the carpet again."

Sora shrugged. "Yeah, well...hey! I told You I was going to clean it up!"

Riku chuckled. "I didn't believe you."

Sora grumbled in response, then noticed the small pile of papers sitting on the coffee table. "Oh, right, I got the mail." He handed Riku the majority of it, while keeping a letter from Kairi for himself.

Riku thumbed through the letters. There were some advertisements, a credit card bill, more advertisements and finally a letter.

He raised a silver eyebrow and turned the letter over in his hands. Silently, he read the return address.

He felt his stomach sink to the floor.


	5. Breaking Resolve

Hello! Chapter five is up. I wonder about this one though. I fear my writing style may have changed just a bit. Hm...

Thank you all for the reviews, they really mean a lot to me!

As always, I don't own, so don't sue! On with the story!

XxX

Sora ripped the envelope open, and yanked the letter out in such a hurry that he nearly tore it in the process. He adored mail,_ lived _for mail. He even saved coupons he knew he would never use for the simple fact that his name was typed on the bottom. This letter was extra special, as it was from Kairi, who he hadn't spoken to in a while.

He gave a side glance to Riku, who was staring dumbfounded at his envelope, deciding whether or not he wanted to touch it, much less open it. Sora frowned. Perhaps his room mate wasn't as gung-ho about mail as he was. Then again, Sora had never paid a bill in his life, and Riku's expression resembled the one his parents made when such things came for them.

He smiled at Riku. "You, know, I am going to pay half of that."

Riku swallowed and shifted on the couch. "What? Oh, It's...not a bill."

"...Oh. Well, what's the matter then?" He put his own letter on the table.

Riku opened his mouth and closed it again and went right back to staring at the white envelope. Color was completely absent from his skin. "Never mind." He stood and retreated to his bedroom, the letter hanging limply from his hand.

Sora shrugged, and was going to follow him, had he not heard the bedroom door close and lock in the hallway.

Sighing, he scooped his letter up. A warm familiarity set over him as he read the bubbly script in Kairi's typical choice of purple ink. She informed him of the happenings in his old town, how the neighbor's dog ran away, how Tidus and Wakka got into _another_ fight, and how she missed him very much. He smiled. He missed her very much as well, and hoped he'd get a chance to meet up with her again soon.

Childhood friends, he thought, did little to describe their relationship. From the time the two had met in elementary school, he had known their friendship was impenetrable. Their arguments? Petty. Their tolerance for one another? Unwavering. She was the reason he was able to live as he did now, as a reasonably kind person; as an incurable whiner who didn't care what others thought.

He missed visiting her apartment on the weekends, lazily sprawled out on her bed while she painted his toenails—there was a fair amount of explaining to do once he returned home for that one...

He missed her gentle bullying, her jovial laughter, and her sisterly wisdom.

He missed the way her bob of red hair bounced as she laughed with him, as she laughed _at_ him.

It wasn't that he was lonely here. He had Riku, and though he wasn't the most mirthful person Sora had ever met, he certainly proved to be a fantastic roommate. He wondered if he would ever be able to reach Riku's level of maturity and rationality. He wondered if Riku's personality was what he should shoot for to be a reasonably respectable adult.

It was just that, everything he once was, was quickly fading into the past. Sure, he could always call her, or his other friends back home, but there was still a faint line of detachment trailing farther behind him each time he moved a day into the future. He could feel his roots dying.

Maybe he was just being dramatic.

Contrary to what his mind and heart told him, his years steadily nudged him into adulthood now. He had to learn to pull himself out of homesickness and realize that just because he was a few hundred miles away, did not mean he wouldn't have contact with anyone. After all, this letter was proof of it, wasn't it? It was contact. This was adulthood.

He tucked the letter away in his pocket.

Sprawling out on the overstuffed couch, Sora kicked off his shoes and reached for the remote.

Riku hadn't made a sound in quite a while, Sora observed, partially to distract himself from his own thoughts, and partly out of genuine concern. He glanced over his shoulder at the empty hallway multiple times, but no sound came in return.

The room was quiet, save for the light plucking of Sora's nails against random buttons on the remote. He twirled it around some more and waited, but for what he wasn't sure.

Several times he started to get up and knock on the door, but the notion seemed inappropriate. Were it Kairi, he would have banged on the door without a second thought.

With Riku though, it was different, like he would be stepping onto untrodden space. Barging in on him might not make matters better.

He waited there a little while longer until he was sure he was becoming part of the couch. The remote was in mid-twirl when he heard a soft click from the hallway, followed by footsteps.

Immediately Sora set himself upright straining his neck until Riku appeared into the living room.

As usual, his eyes were set on the floor, even as he came around the couch to sit next to Sora. He noticed the letter in his pocket had been crumpled and un-crumpled multiple times since he had left the room. Sora raised his eyebrows.

Riku was quiet for a moment, but then let out a slow stream of air. "Listen Sora, I have to...tell you something."

Sora nodded and cheerfully replied "Sure," yet he felt a little uneasiness creeping down his spine.

Riku's eyes were cast so completely on the floor that Sora wondered if the floor was going to come up from the sheer intensity of the gaze.

"What's the matter?"

The words struck him and he winced. "I...it's just that...this letter..." He gripped his knees. "It's from my father. He's...going to come visit." He squeezed his eyes shut as if waiting for the house to collapse on top of him.

Sora just stared at him bewildered. Obviously there was something here he wasn't getting, because the news didn't seem nearly as catastrophic as Riku made it sound. "...Um...that's great!" He exclaimed, giving Riku's shoulder a pat.

Riku, however hadn't changed expressions yet.

Sora knitted his eyebrows, a wave of understanding hitting him in the face. "Oh, I get it!" He smiled. "I don't mind leaving for a few hours so you two can catch up. Just give me the day and I'll be out of here faster than you can say, 'hey, that guy left in a hurry!'"

Riku's eyebrows puckered into a kind of slow confusion. Taking in Sora's wide grin, he felt a strong pang of something scratching around inside. Reluctantly, he attempted a smile that he wasn't sure made it to his lips."He'll be here in four days."

"Four days?" Sora's face lit up even more, if that were even possible. "That'll give us time to clean the apartment up a little...not that it already isn't perfect. I'll help."

Riku nodded, but Sora could tell he wasn't really listening.

He frowned. "I don't get it, what's the matter?"

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry.

"Sorr–I mean..."

Sora rolled his eyes.

He cleared his throat. "I just haven't seen him in a few years."

Sora leaned back into the sofa. "That's a pretty long time. You're probably just nervous."

"Yeah..."

"It'll be okay." He smiled, giving Riku's shoulder a shake. "You'll have plenty to catch up on, and after that," Sora mused, "I'm sure you'll start watching Monday night football and going fishing together in no time. Granted, you don't really seem like the fishing type, but the concept is what I'm getting at."

Riku didn't say anything, but Sora was out of ideas to cheer him up. Maybe after a little while he would start feeling better on his own.

They sat on the couch for a little while, and Riku wrestled around with his thoughts. Sora took his eyes off the TV a few times to glance at his roommate and , wondered if he had actually shut himself off. However, evidence of life surfaced after Riku announced he was going to bed a short time later.

Sora didn't bother question that he was going to sleep a little past eight thirty, but instead cheerfully told him to have a good night and better feelings in the morning. Riku replied to which with a very quiet 'thanks'.

Out of boredom, Sora turned in early as well, glancing one final time at his room mate's door before closing his own. He still felt Kairi's letter in his pocket.

XxX

Riku was sitting on the edge of his bed, partially undressed. The crumpled envelope was placed haphazardly on his night stand with the name above the return address glaring at him hatefully.

He had a wonderful job, a beautiful apartment, and a room mate that turned out to be the most decent person he'd met in a long time...maybe ever.

But now, this crumpled piece of paper; this simple, easily shredded piece of half-a-cent paper and the news that was scribbled on it in that all-too-familiar handwriting, was going to ruin everything he had made for himself.

He hadn't cried in a long time.

But tonight, as he curled up underneath the blankets, staring at that horrid letter, his vision blurred and warm tears fell down his cheeks.


	6. Trial 1: Taking out the Trash

Chapter six is up. I don't have any special notes about this one. Uh...it's a little longer than the rest. I think that's about it. As usual, I don't own any characters, so don't sue.

Over the next couple of days, Sora decided that Riku did not like his face.

Even though he didn't have the best track record for reaching conclusions thus far, this was the only one he could come up with to explain his roommate's behavior. Sure, Riku had never been one to look Sora in the eye, but these few days in particular, Riku had stopped looking at him entirely.

He knew it wasn't something he had said because Riku would carry on regular conversations with him without trouble. He even started chewing mint gum regularly just in case it was his breath.

Riku's eyes were practically part of the carpeting now, and Sora couldn't help but notice the slightly perplexed, slightly dispirited knit in his eyebrows every time he mentioned it.

"Hey, what's the matter with you?" Sora would ask.

"Nothing," Riku would answer, and then his brows would scrunch closer and closer together like he was trying to squeeze out better a better answer than he gave, but couldn't. Sora would try to continue the conversation for a bit, but in the end, he was either dismissed, or grumbled at until it died completely away.

Sora spent a morning painstakingly inspecting his face in the mirror after scrubbing it furiously in the shower. After a few moments of examination, he had discovered that he didn't have the same number of eyelashes on each eye, but there wasn't anything particularly disfavoring about his face. In fact, he was downright handsome. He had decided Riku just had a thing against beautiful people...or something.

Of course, his logic had a fair number of holes in it, but Sora was just about tired of trying to figure Riku out. Whatever problems the boy had, he could sort through them himself, and Sora would listen to them later.

This morning, Sora stumbled into the kitchen, barely clearing the doorway before collapsing into a chair. Behind him, the coffee pot was simmering, and Sora almost jumped at the sound of the hissing steam. After all, it _had_ been a while since the device was safely brewing away on the counter. The rich smell of coffee permeated the air, and he felt himself slightly more invigorated..._slightly._

In the background of the hissing machine, he heard pounding water from the bathroom. Riku was still in the shower, he supposed, but he didn't mind waiting for Riku to have the first cup. He owed him that much.

With a growl, he glanced about the kitchen for some object to catch his attention. He secretly hoped it would be the remote, but his luck was not running well these days, and his eyes instead fell upon a fairly daunting pile of garbage in the corner.

He remembered the trash can being white once, and perhaps it still was, underneath heap of rubbish; the byproduct of his vigorous cleaning the day before.

He had pushed past the pain of throwing away his precious belongings, (after all, who wouldn't feel upset after throwing away a prized magical fortune teller found after rummaging through a box of cereal nearly five years ago? These things were priceless).

But he had done it—and for Riku no less—with a stiff upper lip, and a heavy sense of determination. It would only add insult to injury to take the already maltreated objects outside.

But Riku was still in the shower.

And that coffee was starting to smell _really_ good.

Sora groaned. He had to get his mind off the steadily percolating coffee pot, and he _did_ want to have another look around the complex.

So, he peeled himself off the chair and gripped the edge of the plastic peeking out from underneath the garbage. He had an awful time trying to pull the awkward bulk from the tight, hard plastic of the trash can's frame, but he managed to get the pile onto the floor without tearing the bag.

He smiled.

Sora had taken the trash out many times at home, he thought, while tugging the bag along the carpet to the front door. His parents made him do it every Saturday morning—usually during his block of cartoon watching. He would heave the sack over his shoulder and put it at the edge of the driveway for the trash man.

Wedging the sack through the door frame, he headed out the door and down the hall to the elevator, where he faced an even greater challenge: maneuvering the bag through the uncooperative elevator door.

Twice he had to call the elevator back with the button, but the third time was the charm, and in a little under seven minutes, he was in the elevator, leaning against the wall and cursing the bag.

Riku had better be darned happy about this.

_Riku_, he thought absently, tugging the bag back up as it sank into itself. That guy had some issues.

Aside from his obvious eye problem, the boy was incapable of being stirred. He had never met anyone so..._mild._

Back home, Sora couldn't remember anyone being nearly as passive as his white-haired roommate, even his parents when they ignored his deliberate attempts to rile them. Kairi was always excited about something, whether she was happy or otherwise. She was a kind girl, but her large personality kind of took up any space for any unneeded passiveness. Tidus and Wakka happened to be the same way, though they weren't particularly kind people...and that letter Kairi sent only supported his thoughts.

And Sora himself... well, he would go ahead and be honest. He wouldn't be winning any prizes for his patience and rationality any time soon...probably ever for that matter. He could describe himself with many words, but one of them would certainly not be _mild_. Riku could have it all to himself, he decided.

Then there was that maturity Riku somehow managed to carry so well. For a guy that didn't feel anything, he was pretty good at being an adult. Maybe staring at the floor for long periods of time was the answer Sora was looking for...

He shrugged.

The door opened, and he tumbled out with the trash bag barely clearing the door before it closed. He panted while sitting on the floor for a moment, wondering if it would be such a travesty to just leave the bag out there in the hallway. He sniffed and took the bag in his hands once again and headed out to the parking lot.

It was still early and the other members of the complex were leaving for work, he supposed. He waited for a little of the traffic to clear before heading out into the spacious lot, stumbling a little on the curb.

He considered phoning his parents today. He hadn't spoken to them much since his move other than the little check up calls they absolutely demanded he make each week. How proud they would be of their son, he thought smugly. Perhaps he wasn't as incapable he imagined everyone thought he was!

Sure, he couldn't find his own apartment, but he could darned sure take out some garbage.

And then it occurred to him.

There wasn't an "edge of the driveway."

Searching around frantically, he found no evidence of the flat concrete area on which to put his bag of garbage. What on earth was he supposed to do with it? He would feel really stupid going to the front desk to ask, and he couldn't go ask Riku. That would defeat the purpose of taking it out in the first place!

Grimacing at how ridiculous he suddenly felt, he hauled the bag behind a row of bushes, hoping someone would come out of the complex with similar intentions. He leaned against the side of the building, trying to appear casual—he wasn't sure how successful he was—and wished he had a cigarette.

He didn't smoke, but that's how they did things in the movies.

A few people exited, giving Sora strange looks as he waved, but no one seemed to be in the mood to take out the trash this morning. He wanted to pull out his hair.

It wasn't supposed to end this way! If only he had taken that cup of coffee this morning, he wouldn't be standing here trying to hide a pathetically obvious trash bag behind a row of bushes.

The door opened, and for a moment, Sora thought he was going to grab whoever it was and demand that they get their own bag of garbage to put wherever it was supposed to go so he could copy them, but the moment he turned around, a line of shock shot its way up his spine.

"Sora, what are you doing?"

"Oh...er...Riku. Hi."

His roommate was staring at him in that not-staring-at-him kind of way.

"Is that a trash bag behind the shrubs?"

"It's probably not a good idea to question me on this one."

Riku nodded his head slowly. "Well, when you're finished, the dumpsters are behind the building."

Sora crossed his arms indignantly. "I _knew_ that, Riku."

"I figured."

There was something about the shy smile that crept along Riku's face that Sora disfavored. "I seriously _knew _that!" He crossed his arms and leaned against the building. "What kind of moron doesn't know where the dumpsters are? I mean, duh!"

Riku's smile grew. "One that hasn't been living here that long and doesn't bother to ask."

"Yeah well, I'd hate to be that poor guy."

"Right."

Sora fidgeted uncomfortably and coughed. "Don't you need to be at work or something?"

"Yes, I was just leaving. Do you need any—"

"No, I don't. Go."

Riku shrugged and headed down the walkway, and Sora waited until he was completely out of view before letting out a few choice words at the sky. He received more strange looks, but he didn't really care.

He had to be at work in a little while.

He yanked the trash bag up with his hand and dragged it behind the building to deposit.

So much for not being a moron.

XxX

"Hey, when you're done with those croissants, we need more profiteroles au chocolate. They're going like free money at a hobo convention!"

Riku's boss disappeared behind the door to the kitchen as it swung closed. He sighed, rolling the last of the dough out, and sprinkling it with flour. As he cut the dough into triangles and rolled them into croissants, his mind wandered to the upcoming visit from his father.

The letter was crumpled up on his night stand at home. Every morning when he woke up, he distinctly remembered throwing it away the night before. Somehow though, it was always back in the same spot; mocking him, tormenting him, stabbing him.

He mentally slapped himself. It was so unlike him to get worked up over a silly letter; a silly little visit from his father. He hadn't seen the man in years. He had probably changed so much he wouldn't even recognize him. Sora may have been right. All they probably needed was a little time to catch up; a little time to get to know each other again. He was older now; more sensible. They could talk about things he never understood when he was growing up. They could communicate on a much more mature level.

Perhaps he would even be allowed to look him in the eye.

With all the strength he could muster, he forced himself to smile.

It hurt much more than he thought possible.

Gingerly gathering up the croissants, he loaded them into the oven and headed to the freezer for the extra profiterole dough. There were plastic bags filled with every dough imaginable inside. Extra pie crusts, rolls, and puff pastry lined the bottom of the freezer, while the specialty dough rested in the storage compartments on the sides. Once, Riku had been bored enough to count how many different bags there were and it still surprised him today. He picked through the lot for a moment, then produced the bag he was searching for. While it unthawed, he hunted around for the semi-sweet chocolate.

He wondered what his mother would think. She and his father had been divorced for a number of years now, but he wondered if his father was going to visit her as well. Riku himself hadn't spoken to his mother in several years either—partly because she left _him _and partly because he hadn't bothered to contact her.

He could still remember the bitter look in his father's eyes when he found that note on the table.

Sure, she had written the two of them some months after her departure. She even left a return address on her envelope. Once or twice she even invited the two of them to her new house to talk, and sort things out properly. Neither he nor his father accepted the invitations, but they wrote back until the letters stopped coming, and they just stopped caring.

He shook his head. His mother was not the issue here. It was his father that he was concerned about, and thinking about his mother was just method to keep his thoughts otherwise occupied.

After shaving off enough chocolate to fill a glass bowl, he set it on top of a pan of boiling water.

Behind him, the door swung open and his boss poked his head in. "Are those coming out soon? We've got people to feed out here!"

Riku nodded. He almost chuckled at how ridiculous he felt. He was not going to stand there and harp on the past. This was his life now. He _did_ have people to feed. He would not allow his parents, especially his father ruin what he had taken years to make for himself. He shoved a whisk into the chocolate and began to stir in some cream.

He felt sicker.

XxX

Riku hung his apron onto the rack and headed out to the front of the café. A dull ache was clouding his being, but he tried to ignore it. His boss was calculating the day's earnings at the cash register, while another employee was dutifully sweeping up pastry crumbs and napkins.

"See you tomorrow." Riku called over his shoulder, heading for the door. His boss looked up from the cash register.

"Hey, you requested off for the day after tomorrow, right?"

Riku felt his blood run cold and a frightening pang of something in his chest. Swallowing hard, he pressed his fingers against the glass of the door. "Right," he muttered.

"Okay. Just making sure. Roxas, you're filling in!" The boy sweeping up tried to contain an eye roll.

"Yes sir."

"Good lad. Goodnight Riku."

He barely nodded in response, pushed the door open and headed down the street.

* * *

Thanks for reading. The next chapter will be up shortly.


	7. Trial 2: Laundry

Hello! Chapter seven is up. This one is quite a bit longer than the others, and it looks like the chapters that follow will also be fairly long. I hope you don't mind. I just had to squeeze so many things in, and before I knew it, there were nine or ten pages. Thank you for sticking with this story this long, I greatly appreciate the feedback.

Speaking of feedback, though I enjoy the 'favorite' emails beyond words, I would really appreciate it if you would send me a review as well. Really, I'm so glad that you liked it, but I'd like to know why you liked it, and if there are any mistakes or things you didn't particularly favor. Thanks.

As stated before, I don't own, so don't sue. On with chapter seven.

* * *

When Riku woke up the next morning to the smell of lemon scented cleaner and the unmistakable squeal of an attempted ballad heaving out of his roommate's throat, he couldn't stop himself from rolling over and tucking the covers around his head. Sora should not have been awake so early. Unless he was preparing for work, he was usually glued to his mattress until noon, and often, much later.

It was a slight inconvenience when it came to laundering the bedding, but Riku was fine with the sacrifice so long as his morning was relatively peaceful. It looked like he would not be granted such niceties this morning.

But Sora had been quite the eager-beaver lately. Just yesterday he had taken out the garbage without being prompted. He hoped whatever invigorated his roommate so strongly would die down soon.

As a harbinger for how the rest of the day would pan out, Sora knocked on the door. "Hey sleepy head. When you get up, I need your sheets and stuff."

Riku groaned in response, but managed a muffled affirmation underneath the covers. Sora seemed satisfied and scurried back down the hall to finish who-knew-what in the kitchen.

Riku sat up fully in bed, running a hand down his face roughly. His head was throbbing something fierce, and something inside him told him it wasn't from the smell of cleaner. He showered and dressed rather sluggishly and headed into the kitchen.

Sora was scampering about with hands protected by rubber gloves, arranging dishes, washing the table, and mopping the floor, all while belting out some unrecognizable lyrics to a song.

"Hey!" He said, turning around mid-chorus. "You're going to be late if you don't get a move on."

"Right," he muttered, rooting around the pantry for a mug.

"What's the matter with you this morning?" He set the mop against the wall and leaned himself against the counter.

"Nothing."

"Oh, well, I must be crazy then." Sora grinned. "Sighs, slumping shoulders and frowns are usually signs of very happy, very hopeful young men. To think...I've been wrong all these years."

The corners of Rikus mouth turned up. It wasn't quite a smile, but Sora took what he got.

"Are you going to work today?" Riku asked, reaching for the sugar.

"Nope! Not tomorrow either! They hired a couple of guys earlier this week, which means I'm no longer the newbie. They get the last pickings of the shifts."

Riku nearly dropped his spoon. _Sora was awake on his own accord?_

Sora resumed mopping, and Riku had to remind himself that his roommate's unpredictability was just part of his appeal. He probably wasn't ill, and there weren't any large lumps on the boy's head to indicate a fall either. He straightened his throat.

"So, um, why are you up so early...cleaning?"

"Are you kidding me?" He paused briefly to squirt some more cleaner into a bucket. "I have to get the place all ready for Papa Riku's visit tomorrow."

Suddenly, Riku realized why he had a headache this morning.

"Oh, well, you don't have to do that."

Sora snorted. "Of course I do. This is the kind of thing responsible, mature, intelligent adults do. I happen to be all three."

Riku raised a silver eyebrow, unsure how to respond to that one. 'Part of his appeal...' he thought absently, then put his spoon in the sink. "In that case, I'll see you when I get home."

"Unless I'm at the grocery store. Do you realize that we don't have any spiced cider? How are you supposed to entertain without spiced cider?"

Riku sighed. "He's not staying that long."

"Sure he's not. Then, when you're both seated comfortably on the couch, locked in a heated debate about a sport team making it to the championship, your throats will be dry from all of the laughter and father-son rough housing. Then you'll say, 'Gee, I sure wish Sora had gone to the store to get that spiced cider he talked about this morning. I shouldn't have talked him out of it.' Then, I'll come into the room—after all, it will be past midnight, and your noise will have kept me awake—and I'll say, 'gee, you guys have been in here talking for hours. Aren't you thirsty? Wait, we would have had spiced cider if Riku would have thought this thing would work out. Hm, oh well.' Then I'll go to bed, and you'll both just have to drink water."

"...Wow," Riku coughed. His eyebrows lifted in amusement." You really think it'll pan out like that?" He smirked as he reached for his jacket.

"Well, you'll probably have the option of drinking milk, but I was running out of air and couldn't fit that part in. Other than that, yes."

Riku nodded, and slipped out the door. "I'll see you when I get home."

XxX

Sora had finished cleaning the apartment. He vacuumed, dusted, mopped and polished. All that was left to be done was the laundry.

He was still upset about the garbage incident the day before, but he was determined to make up for it with the laundry. It occurred to him that he had never washed anything before. Aside from folding the clothing his mother had tossed at him when he complained of boredom, Sora was rather clueless when it came to such domestic tasks.

Riku ended up doing most of the laundry (Sora always managed to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why he simply didn't have the time to do his own), and Sora did the grocery shopping. It was a fair trade.

Now, he was determined to prove himself, and laundry seemed to be the next most logical task to try and accomplish. Besides, he had seen his mother wash clothes enough times to get the gist of it, he supposed.

He headed into his room and stripped the bed of his blankets and sheets, as well as the pillow cases. He noticed a few articles of clothing tossed haphazardly in the chair, so he balled them up and piled them up along with his sheets.

By now, the mass of dirty material had gotten quite sizable, but Sora couldn't be stopped now. He dumped the mass into the hallway and proceeded into Riku's room.

As his fingertips slid along the golden doorknob, Sora couldn't help but feel the slightest bit impish. He _had_ gotten permission from Riku—well, something like permission—that morning to go retrieve the dirty bedding, but there was something undeniably daring about the venture.

Sora had never been inside the room before.

There was no specific reason as to why. There were no 'DO NOT ENTER' signs posted on the door, nor was Riku particularly secretive when it came to his sleeping quarters. Sora had just never had a reason to go inside.

He opened the door slowly, and tiptoed inside, as if he expected the carpet to be strewn with nails and jagged pieces of glass. The floor turned out to be no more dangerous than the carpeting in the rest of the house. Sora wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not, so he stamped around a bit more to make sure there were no sharp bits embedded within.

Again, the carpet proved to be harmless.

As he approached the bed, he glanced around the space for something of general interest, but the room was void of anything eye catching. The walls were plain and tan, much like Sora's own bedroom walls. The dresser was stacked with an assortment of untouched fragrances and hair products, while his night stand was littered with loose change. An innocent looking wad of paper dangled dangerously from the edge over the trash can. The clothes were put away in their respective drawers, and the bed was neatly made.

The room gave off an air of relative tidiness, though it was slightly lacking in the excitement factor. Sora's room was a theme park in comparison. Whenever he entered, he never knew what he was going to step on.

The room suited his roommate well enough though, Sora decided, as he bent down to strip the bed of its blankets and sheets. Heaving the mass into his arms, he stumbled out of the room into the hallway, and dumped the load of bedding into the pile previously comprised of his own.

Inspecting the pile carefully, Sora decided that it would be entirely possible to carry the load to the washing room without too much trouble. After all, it would be a waste of time and energy to make two trips when he was perfectly capable of completing the task with one. Now he understood why it always took so long for his mother to finish the washing. Perhaps the woman was simply not strong enough to carry the heavy garments and bedding all at once.

He grinned.

Heaving the pile down the hallway, he stopped to deposit it into the laundry basket that Riku kept in the corner in the kitchenette. It didn't phase him in the slightest that the pile swelled over the edge farther than most safety codes would allow. He could see over the top, and that was good enough as far as he was concerned.

Somehow, he managed to get the door open, and he headed down the hallway.

Sora felt quite proud of himself. He had learned his lesson after the trash incident, and went to ask the landlord where the washing room was. (Asking Riku was absolutely out of the question.) This was followed by intense, independent surveying of the entire complex, as well as the outside. Now, he not only knew where the trash bins and laundry room were, but he also knew each fire exit was located, how many stair cases there were in the building, where the Janitor's supply closet was located, and the times and places that the door men exchanged shifts.

He was quite proud of himself indeed.

He rounded a corner with the basket and approached the elevator. His struggles with it were reminiscent of the battle with the trash bag the day before. He managed to wriggle into the door—surprisingly—without losing a single sock—miraculously.

He waited patiently for the elevator doors to open, and then suddenly found himself staring at a bright white room. The loud rumble of washers and driers rattled him. He spied them sitting against opposite walls. Clothes tumbled inside most of them, but a few were vacant, and it was in front of these that he set his basket, overflowing with bedding.

Sora examined the machine precariously, then proceeded to separate the white from the dark, just as he had seen his mother do before.

But then he ran into trouble.

He had a pair of orange shorts, which clearly weren't white, and clearly weren't dark. While he studied them, he spied a red shirt, as well as some other unclassifiable shades of clothing. Some had prints, while others were just some odd mix of colors. He scratched his head. He'd just leave all of the questionable ones for later, he supposed.

Gathering up the blankets, he dumped all of them into a hole in the washer. Slamming the lid down, he tapped his foot patiently for the machine to carry on like all the rest, but was shocked to see that it sat perfectly quiet, but most of all, perfectly...not washing.

Sora scratched his head. Perhaps the machine was a dud. With a shrug, he retrieved the blankets from one washer and deposited them into its neighboring machine. Perhaps it would prove to be more cooperative.

Again, he closed the lid and waited patiently for it to fill with the correct amount of soap and water, then proceed to clean his bedding.

And again, the washer sat, unmoving.

For the next half an hour, Sora tried several tactics to get the machine to start. He pounded it a few times, exchanged dark material for white, and he even loaded it with the questionable ones, just in case the machine was selective about colors.

But all ended the same. The clothes were left unwashed, and Sora was left feeling depressingly incapable.

He sat down on the floor in a huff, eying the washer sadly. His attempts at being self sufficient were ending terribly, and the last thing he wanted to do was go back to his room with a basket full of unwashed laundry, especially after he had worked so hard to try and get it clean.

Standing up slowly, he prepared to heave the massive load back to his apartment, but a clatter echoed throughout the room.

He looked down, and spied his cell phone lying on the ground. It had fallen out of his pocket. Gingerly, he picked up the phone—it didn't appear broken—and was about to pocket it again, when suddenly an idea struck him.

Kairi.

Who knew more about washing than women?

He snickered to himself. Here was his opportunity. All he had to do was call her, ask a few unassuming questions regarding washing machines and how to work them, and then he would get her to recite the instructions without her finding out a thing.

Pure genius.

Sora dialed her number and couldn't help but grin as the dial tone sounded in his ear. There was a click, and her gentle voice carried through, sending over him a feeling of affection mixed with puckishness.

"Oh, hey Sora. It's been a while, hasn't it? How are you doing?"

He tried to sound calm and casual. "Fine. How about you?"

"I'm alright. What's up?"

Sora rocked back and forth on his heels. "Well, nothing really. I'm just washing some clothes."

There was a pause.

"...You're washing clothes, or you're watching Riku wash clothes?"

"The first one."

There was another pause.

"...Where's Riku?"

"At work. Anyway, that doesn't really matter. Listen, I have a small problem."

Kairi's voice climbed a few octaves. "A problem? Sora, don't touch anythi—"

"Just listen to me for a minute," Sora snapped, then leaned against the washing machine. "Riku left me some specific instructions on how to wash his new dress shirt. It was extremely expensive, but I'm afraid he, um...spilled coffee all over the paper, and his handwriting isn't all that neat anyway..."

Kairi sighed into the receiver. "Extremely expensive shirt huh? What kind of material is it?"

"Cotton."

"..."

"Those long pauses of yours are getting a little on the irritating side, Kairi."

"Oh, sorry. Well, what color is it?"

Sora looked down at his three separate piles of clothing.

White.

Dark.

Questionable.

He cleared his throat. "You know what Kairi? It's the funniest thing. Riku actually has _three_ really expensive shirts that need to be washed. I mean, it if this was something simple like washing T-shirts or bedding or something, then I'd have no problem, but these shirts...they're just so expensive, you know?"

Kairi was going to pause again, but decided against it. "Okay Sora, what color is the first one?"

"White."

"Great. Put it in the washer. I suggest washing more than just one shirt at a time. Find some socks or whatever to throw in there with it. You're going to waste a lot of money that way."

Sora scratched his head. "Money?"

"Yes Sora, coin operated washing machines typically require money."

Sora's eyes immediately fell on the coin slot sitting quite obviously next to the wash mode dial, which he had also failed to notice. He dug around in his pocket for a few coins.

The road to manhood was a long one indeed.

XxX

Sora heaved the basket of clean laundry through the door of his apartment with a grunt.

The load had been finished.

Though he thought he was being crafty with his coverup, Kari had seen through his plan when he described one of Riku's shirt as being roughly the size of a bedspread, and stuffed with polyester fiber fill. Kari didn't berate him too badly for his lack of knowledge, and after she yelled at him for a few minutes, the two actually enjoyed doing this sort of phone-laundry.

He was sad when the final load had dried, and the conversation ended.

But he had more important things to think about at the moment. Riku would be home shortly—the laundry had taken quite a bit longer than expected, especially since he had to re-dry both blankets because the drier overheated—and he still had to get the blankets back on the beds.

He hurried to his own room, smoothed the sheets over his bed, and tossed his clothes in the drawer. Hopefully Riku's father wouldn't be coming in his room...

He dashed across the hallway with the remaining bedding and began to make Riku's bed as well. Taking the sheet in both hands, he flipped it over the bed, but in his haste, he knocked that crumpled piece of paper on Riku's night stand into the trash.

He grunted as he made the rest of the bed, then bent down to retrieve it.

It was so wrinkled and puckered, Sora was about to toss it right back into the trash can, but he noticed that the piece of paper was actually an envelope.

Sora peered around the room as if Riku might appear behind him at any moment. Sensing that his roommate was nowhere near, he examined the envelope more closely.

There, in the corner was a name and address Sora was not familiar with, scratched out in short, sharp handwriting. The sending information was very familiar to him, though.

It was the addressed to the apartment, and more importantly, Sora's roommate.

Realization eased over him; this must have been the letter Riku got in the mail from his father a few days ago. He looked about again, feeling the slightest bit guilty for handling the envelope, and he felt even worse while he guided the letter gently from it.

He scanned the text quickly. Looking at the stiff lettering was all he needed to satisfy his curiosity.

But he found that the more he scanned, the slower his reading became. He found himself sitting down on Riku's bed, reading the letter in it's entirety, and even going back to read a few passages to make sure he understood them.

It wasn't a particularly dark or menacing letter, at least, not in the text. It contained a few common greetings; it asked how Riku had been, what he had been doing, and how life was treating him. It described in muted detail the whereabouts of the sender, his own personal opinion of his job, as well as his current activities. Lastly, the letter offered a date in which the sender would be in town, and that meeting up with Riku during his stay would be arranged. It ended rather abruptly with a flimsy closing and a signature.

But there was something about the _way_ the text was written that unnerved Sora a little. The handwriting was so sharp and pronounced. The letter itself was so concise and taciturn. It was hardly something he expected to see from a long lost father. The letter carried such a heavy feeling of obligation, not affability.

Perhaps that was how Riku's family did things.

He traced the folds and wrinkles in the letter with his index finger. He didn't understand why it looked like it had been thrown in a pen with a bunch of easily amused toddlers. It had been folded and unfolded so many times, the corners were going to fall off.

This letter, Sora thought, had gone through some serious abuse.

Suddenly, he heard the familiar footsteps behind the front door. He heard the key turn, so he put the letter on Riku's dresser, and ran into the livingroom, bearing as guiltless of an expression as he could muster. "Welcome home, Riku."

"Thanks," He replied, putting his keys on the hook.

Sora eyed him closely for a few minutes as he sauntered into the kitchenette to rummage around. "Hungry?"

"Not really." He ran a hand through his hair. "You know what? I think I'm going to turn in early."

Sora raised his eyebrows. "Long day?"

"Very long day."

"Oh." Sora bit his lower lip. Alright then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. The apartment looks great by the way. Good job."

Sora smiled. "Thanks."

Riku nodded, and headed back in the hallway towards his room. The door closed silently, and Sora leaned back into the couch and sighed.

Riku entered his room and lifted a silver brow at the clean smelling linen on his bed. Sora had certainly been thorough. He collapsed into the bed with a huff, and waited for the weight that had been pressing down on him all day to finally lift. As he expected, no such weight lifted.

He shook his head, now completely irritated with himself. Just like he had told himself not to, he ended up spending the entire day thinking about that letter and his father. His mother entered his thoughts a few times too. He wished he could just get the visit over with already. Then he could put it behind him, and he wouldn't have to think about it for another long, long, _long,_ span of time. He didn't want to have anything to do with that man he called his father.

His father had grown hard, and bitter after his mother left them. But Riku couldn't blame him for that. She was the woman he fell in love with; she was the woman he married. Riku himself had a hard time dealing with it at first. He would throw things and storm out of the house in the middle of the night. He would even pick fights with his father just to release the pent up frustration and resentment he felt.

But the difference between he and his father was clear. Riku had eventually gotten _over_ it. Little by little, the pain died away, and—just like the letters his mother sent in the mail—it eventually stopped. He and his mother would probably never reconcile, but he wasn't angry anymore, he didn't let the resentment rule him.

His father, on the other hand never let his anger fade. As the days went on, and her absence sank in, he became enraged. It was as if the empty bed at night, the half-full closet, and her simple lack in _presence_ pounded him in, reminded him that their wedding vows were meaningless, that all the time he had spent loving her was an absolute waste. He missed her beauty, her coy smile, her stunning, uniquely hued blue eyes that she had passed down to their son. His resentment began to fester, it was uncontrollable. It was to be expected that some of it would be taken out Riku.

But Riku was never beaten as a child. He never had to hide bruises, or make up excuses about broken bones to his teachers. He did on occasion have to dodge flying beer bottles, but in most cases it was accidental, and his father, when drunk, had terrible aim.

It was the pent up rage that Riku could not handle, and it was only aggravated by the fact that he and his mother had the same eyes.

His father said his eyes pinned him, accused him, filled him with an unbelievable amount of guilt and responsibility, and threw upon him a painful familiarity that he absolutely could not _stand_.

And he let Riku know as often as possible, how much he truly _hated_ those eyes.

Riku couldn't remember how many times he had been threatened when he faced his father. It got to a point that he was forbidden from even looking at him.

"_Those eyes," _his father would cry._ "Those eyes! They're the same ones your filthy mother looked at me with. Don't look at me like her. Don't ever look at me like her!"_

And Riku didn't. When his father entered the room, his gaze would immediately be sent to the floor. He was even trained to the sound of footsteps. He could hear his feet several yards off, and immediately, he'd cast his gaze on anything but the doorway, so the old man wouldn't curse his appearance when he came in.

Sometimes that wasn't good enough. Sometimes Riku was watching television, and his father would see him staring blankly at the screen. He could see hints of the sharp, piercing blue, and if his father had too much to drink that night, that would be plenty to set him off. So Riku adjusted. For years, he didn't even look off the ground. Complete strangers would pass him, adults, children his age, it didn't matter. It had become second nature. He carried this habit with him even after he moved out of his father's house, determined to never show his _mother's hideous eyes_ to anyone.

He had become so accustomed to it, it had been buried so far into his subconscious that he didn't even notice it until Sora pointed it out the day he moved in.

And then that letter came, and his greatest fear was spelled out right in front of him.

The fear of his father and his hateful words had never left him, even after he had moved out and claimed he had moved on from the past. He was doing the very thing he had tried to rid himself of when he left. He had brought the past with him, he was _living_ it.

_That letter,_ Riku thought in disgust. He felt around on his night stand for the crumpled up piece of paper, itching to throw it away again, torch the trash can and bury the remains in some place he would never find it. To his surprise, he felt nothing but a few spare bits of change and hard wood underneath his fingertips.

He sat up in bed, and felt around the floor for the piece of paper, but again, it was gone. It occurred to him that Sora, in his quest to clean the entire apartment, might have thrown it away, but the trash can was still had trash in it. No letter was included. Fully baffled now, he paced around the room. It wasn't on or under his bed, or night stand. The floor was paper free as well. He wrenched open the drawer, but other than a few books and loose change, there was nothing inside. Riku couldn't imagine where in the world that letter could have gone.

Part of him was relieved—though he did enjoy tossing it in the trash can at least once a night—but the other part of him was so preoccupied with its whereabouts that he simply couldn't stop searching.

Finally, his eyes landed on the small ball of paper, oddly sitting on his _dresser._

Riku scratched his head. He _distinctly_ remembered putting it on his night stand the night before. It was where he saw it that morning before he went to work, and he knew he hadn't been in his room since then. He was the only person that had been in his room at all that day...

Except Sora.

A cold shock of disbelief ran through his body right then. That kid had a lot of nerve snooping through his belongings. Luckily, there wasn't anything particularly personal in that letter, but there could have been. Besides, it was the principle of the matter.

He intended to go storming out into the livingroom to tell his roommate a thing or two about personal space, but he realized he simply didn't have the energy. Besides, he didn't want to bring any attention to the issue, and stirring up a grand debate about the letter's contents would do just that. So Riku exhaled heavily and crashed into his mattress again.

That night he shoved the letter in the night stand drawer.

* * *

That marks the end of chapter seven. Riku's father will finally visit in chapter eight.


	8. Unprepared

Hello! Thanks for coming back for chapter eight. Again, it's a little on the long side. I hope you don't mind. As for notes on this one, Riku's father makes his appearance today!

As usual, I don't own, so don't sue. On with chapter eight.

* * *

The next morning, Riku turned off the alarm on his clock before it rang. He had spent the last several hours staring at the numbers, silently counting them down, and he had given up trying to go to sleep hours before that. Waiting for the alarm would be pointless, as he was already very much awake.

He had anticipated the sleepless night since the day his eyes ran over the letter for the first time. He expected it, he was ready for it, he _embraced_ it. He knew that when he woke up the next morning, no amount of time would prepare him for the meeting later that day, but with the span of night for his usage, he hoped that he could invent _something_ to take the edge off. No such inventions found their way to his mind, but at least he wasn't bounded by grogginess this morning. He had to stay sharp, and with his body kindly allowing him relative alertness without an ounce of sleep to cushion it, he felt he had a small chance of making it through the events of the day.

Later, after he had gone through his potentially deathly mental upheaval, and the effects of the night prior had finally caught up with him, he would allow himself to sleep for the rest of the week.

As his fingers slid off the surface of the clock to hang limply over the mattress, he sighed and considered getting up for the morning. He had ample time to wash, dress and feed himself, and he could probably squeeze in a few hours to read the paper before Sora even opened his eyes; bristling with his new found enthusiasm or not.

He sat up in bed, rubbed his eyes a bit, and then felt cold, sharp needles jumble around in the pit of his stomach. It felt almost like he was getting ready for the first day of school.

He wished his worries were as simple as remembering all of his school supplies, or knowing which bus to ride home. Such a comparison was rather inaccurate, he supposed, as it possessed a sentimentality that he and his father's relationship severely lacked.

Running a hand through his hair, Riku headed into the bathroom to shower and dress, then made his way into the kitchen.

Sora was still asleep. Riku could hear his snoring all the way in the kitchen. He flipped on the coffee maker and waited for it to settle, before retrieving the newspaper from the doormat. The apartment was so was so placid, he thought, sitting down at the table and unfurling the paper. The light that spilled in from the balcony in the other room was dull, and gray, but not dispiriting because Riku didn't think a bright, cheery sunrise would do much to improve his mood anyway.

He forced himself to read the headlines, but after a while all the stories seemed to blur together, and he couldn't remember who was who, which was which, or how something affected that part of town. He attempted to read it again, to find _something_ to prove getting up so early had some worth, but he found himself back to where he was only a short time later. Frustrated, he slid the newspaper back in the bag and pushed it across the table.

The coffee maker hissed and sputtered behind him on the counter, and he leaned back to check it. Enough coffee had brewed for at least one cup for himself, but the thought of ingesting _anything_ that morning seemed so positively nauseating that he just shut the machine off and went into the living room. The balcony looked inviting, so he stepped outside and closed the glass door behind him.

Sora Rubbed his eyes as the rich, warm aroma of coffee wandered into his bedroom. He glanced at his alarm clock, and realized, to his horror, that it was far earlier than he hoped it was. Still, the smell lured him out of bed, down the hallway, and into the kitchen without causing too much complaint.

It was chilly in the rest of the apartment, so Sora reflexively rubbed his arms. It occurred to him that Riku should have been somewhere near (when the smell of fresh coffee was in the air, neither one of them was ever too far away), but the smell was so entrancing, he forgot about his roommate for a moment to pour himself a cup. Satisfied, he strolled about the apartment to look for him.

The living room was barren, so Sora was going to haul himself back into his room for another two or three hours, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught a few strands of white hair blowing in the breeze outside on the balcony. Sora tip-toed a bit closer to the sliding glass door, and discovered his roommate staring pensively out over the balcony.

Normally, Sora would have left the boy alone, but something—as he would later describe as early morning incoherency—made him slide the glass door open. The chilly air outside smacked him in the face, and he rubbed his arms with more rigor to keep warm. It was now he realized how truly uncomfortable it was to walk outside while still wearing his pajamas.

"You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep. Did I wake you up?" Riku asked quietly without shifting his gaze from the town below.

"No. Coffee." Sora mumbled. His skin prickled underneath the thin fabric of his T-shirt.

Riku noted his pricking skin. "You ought to go inside. It's cold out."

"You're out here."

"I'm not wearing pajamas."

Sora yawned. "I've got a thick skin."

"...That's not what that means."

He yawned again, this time louder. He briefly glanced behind him to the warmer area inside. The air on the balcony was so cold, and the atmosphere, thick. Perhaps he had invaded something private; perhaps some deep, intrinsic, intra-personal searching was going on. He did not want to bother his roommate during his time of reflection.

Then his eyes fell on Riku's profile (he had never actually seen his roommate head on anyway). Directionless questions were floating about his person; confusion hung like a cloud over his bowed head. It was with this observation that Sora decided against leaving the balcony. At the very least, he could at least offer a place for those questions to bounce off of.

"Share your thoughts?"

Riku sighed again, and shook his head. "I'm not really sure if there's anything worth saying."

"You never know," Sora replied, settling next to him against the cold metal rail.

"Well," he began, feeling the slightest bit awkward having such a personal conversation with someone he barely had a _serious_ conversation with. He decided to continue anyway." I don't know, I just feel weird."

"Standing on a balcony in the cold weird, or not bothering to have a cup of coffee while you're standing on a balcony in the cold weird?"

Riku chuckled. "Both. Then toss in a platypus, and you bringing my coffee maker all the way down to my job, and you've pretty much reached the level of weirdness that I'm having trouble with."

Sora nodded understandingly. "Well, what's so weird?" He took a long sip from his mug.

"I guess it's this whole visit thing."

Sora's eyebrows lifted. "This has got you really worked up, hasn't it?"

"I suppose it has." He gripped the rail. "And I feel really stupid for harping on it. I've run everything around in my mind so many times, you'd think I'd have exhausted my worries by now. I think it's only gotten worse."

Sora frowned. "Well, I can't say I've ever had this problem before, but I can sympathize."

"I'm sure you know all about it," Riku muttered. He had not forgotten about Sora reading his letter the night before.

Sora's eyebrows lifted in confusion. "What?"

"I know you were snooping around in my room last night."

Shocked, he fumbled with the mug in his hands. "What?! How did you—"

"You put my letter back on the wrong piece of furniture."

Sora gulped hard. How on earth would he have noticed such a small little detail? That was the thing about people with tidy rooms. It was almost impossible to do anything in there without getting caught. And Sora hadn't exactly _meant_ to read the whole thing. It just...happened. Either way, there was no way he could explain himself out of this one. "Riku, listen. I didn't mean to read it. It was just sitting there, and—"

He held up a hand. He hadn't mentioned it for the apology. He wanted to see what type of excuse Sora was going to invent. "Forget it. I'm too preoccupied to really get mad right now, but I don't like the idea of you going through my stuff. You're lucky it wasn't a map to my family's secret treasure trove or something."

Sora apologized anyway, but stopped when Riku let out a dismissive sigh.

The two were quiet again for several minutes, and Sora was still freezing in his pajamas. He really wanted to go back inside where he could crawl underneath his covers again, but he simply couldn't leave Riku outside so distraught and pensive, especially after he had been caught reading the letter. "Um...you know, that was funny."

Riku's eyebrows lifted, and he angled his head slightly towards Sora. "What was funny?"

"What you said," Sora smiled, picking a bit of paint off the rail. "About the platypus and me bringing your coffee maker all the way down to the café. Clever."

Riku was fully perplexed now. "Sora, maybe you should go back to bed. The cold must be getting to you."

"See, that's what I'm talking about." Sora smiled. "Granted, most of this is being done at my expense, but at least you're not so upset."

"Sora, I think—"

"Listen Riku," Sora said matter-of-factly. "You've been thinking about this visit so long your brain probably can't function unless it crosses your mind at least once a day. You can't sleep, and it's obviously keeping you from drinking coffee. That, my friend, is something we simply can't have."

Riku smiled, and allowed him to continue.

"All I'm saying is, you have to lighten up about this. Sure, you and your dad may not have seen each other in a while, and the meeting is probably going to be so horribly awkward you're going to want to run away screaming at first, but who knows? You may actually like each other. You may not get along at all. You're not going to know until this afternoon. There's no use in worrying about it, because whatever happens, is going to happen regardless of how many hours you spend worrying about it. Relax."

Riku's mouth hung open. "Wow...that was...unexpectedly logical."

Sora patted him on the shoulder and opened the glass door. "It's still early. Give me a few hours. I'll be back to normal after some more sleep and a shower."

XxX

The morning rolled on slowly. Sora never did go back to bed, though he announced he would at least once an hour. Eventually Riku just nodded his head absently every time the boy made the announcement, and went back to reading the paper at the kitchen table.

Eventually though, he did get up to take a shower. He discovered, after a few moments of rubbing his hair with the towel that he was, in fact, colder than he was before he got dressed in the first place. He finished dressing, then headed into the kitchen, where Riku had just finished reading the paper. He tossed it into the recycling bin and sighed.

It was almost time.

Sora seemed to be a little anxious himself, but for what reason, neither one of them were sure. He fiddled around with objects on the kitchen counter, the table and even the magnets on the refrigerator before finally slumping down into one of the kitchen chairs.

"You shouldn't have had caffeine this morning," Riku remarked.

"Yeah, like you're one to talk." Sora glanced at the clock. "Are you sure you don't want me to stick around for a little while?"

Riku inadvertently winced. "No. It's alright."

"You sure?" Sora asked, leaning back in his chair, almost tipping over. "I don't mind."

"Don't you have some grocery shopping to do?"

Sora smiled. "Nah, I can go later. Besides," He peeked up at Riku. "I'd rather be close by, just in case...you know, you need me to...uh..be."

Riku was quiet for a moment, and picked a little at the surface of the table. He wasn't sure what to say. For someone that didn't know how to do some fairly important domestic tasks, he was exceptionally good at domestic counseling. He smiled to himself. Sora's mother must have hugged him a lot as a child.

"Thanks," he said at last; the small smile made it to his lips. "But, I think I'll be okay."

Sora shrugged and tipped back farther on the legs of the chair. "No problem." Suddenly, the chair tipped back a little too far and toppled over, leaving Sora sprawled on the linoleum floor. "Oops."

XxX

When it happened, Sora was threading his arms through the sleeves in his jacket. He decided to head out, as advised by his roommate, but was unsure of where he was actually going to go. Riku stood at the doorway to bolt the lock after he left, but such a thing was no longer necessary; there was a dull knock at the door.

Riku felt the color drain out of his face, and the same prickly feeling from that morning returned to the pit of his stomach. Sora eyed him thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but the knock sounded again.

Sora's eyes shifted to the door. "Um..." he started cautiously, "should I open it?"

Riku nodded stiffly, almost mechanically. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking. He chewed his lower lip furiously. All sorts of cold pangs of _something_ were shooting around madly inside his body.

Sora eyed his roommate again, then slowly turned the knob. "Er...hello?"

Behind the door stood an older man of average height, perhaps a few inches taller than Riku. He was fairly well built, though his coat and slightly wrinkled suit hid the smaller details of his physique. Large hands hung stiffly at his sides, and clutched in one was the curved handle of an umbrella.

His face was worn and tight. Eyes, obscured slightly behind the shadow of a brimmed hat, bore down on Sora with an intensity that the boy had never before seen. He and Riku shared the same broad shoulders, but that was about as far as the resemblance went. His face wasn't particularly egregious though, Sora thought, as he scanned the man's rough shadow of a beard and thin lips, but his expression did lack geniality.

The man's lips quivered a bit under Sora's evaluative gaze, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. Then, his mouth opened, and his lips stiffly formed words. "You've...dyed your hair." He said quietly.

Sora recoiled. He quickly realized the man's mistake and grinned awkwardly. "Oh...er, no, I'm Sora. That's Riku." He gestured behind him with his head. The man's gaze lifted off of him and fell on the boy behind him. He nodded curtly.

Riku was quite sure he was visibly shaking at this point, but Sora nor his father seemed to notice. He bowed his head slightly and offered a small "hi."

"Um..." Sora began again, trying to stop the awkward silence before it started. "I was just heading out," he glanced back at Riku for consent, but found that he was staring so completely at the floor that he had probably gone unnoticed. He swallowed hard and continued. "Um, it was a pleasure to meet you sir." Reflexes made him extend his hand, and the man, a bit shocked at the gesture, took hold of the hand and pumped it up and down a few times.

A grunt symbolized a similar sentiment, and Sora reluctantly slipped out the door, sending Riku a final, encouraging glance.

The door closed with a soft click, and Sora let out a sigh in the hallway. He still had no idea where he was going to go for the next few hours, but he supposed he would figure something out between now and the moment he actually arrived. Adjusting his jacket, he headed down the hallway towards the elevators.

"Um...you can sit down, if you want." Riku said quietly, making his way to the couch. His father grunted again and sat down a fair distance away, settling his hands in his lap uncomfortably. His eyes assessed his son for a moment or two, and then he turned in a bit to speak better.

"Riku."

The word frightened him. His own name frightened him. He had not expected the voice to sound the way it did, to carry the word it carried. How long had it been since he heard his name in that voice? He inadvertently stiffened, chewing furiously on his lower lip. He waited for something, but for what he wasn't exactly sure. His thoughts were racing a mile a minute, his heart was thumping wildly in his chest, and they hadn't even exchanged a full sentence yet. He glanced at the man's lap; that was as far up as his eyes allowed him to go. His father's hands were folded neatly, the umbrella propped up against his knee. There was no evidence of anger, or hostility, but his nerves still weren't put at ease.

"You're pretty tall."

He was taken aback at the comment. It was so plain, so simple. It was void of any sort of sentiment, or warmth. It was just a simple comment. It left him surprisingly agitated. Though he was glad he wasn't being criticized, the words were valueless. At least with the criticism their meeting would have been personal. 'You're pretty tall' could have been directed to anyone; some random kid in the park, Sora, his pet dog. In fact, none of the words his father said since he entered held any sort of sentiment; they only supported that there wasn't any. When he had first entered, he didn't even have the slightest clue what Riku looked like. Perhaps he was just wishing for too much at one time, but he would have appreciated a 'hi son, how have you been?' or even a hug, as odd and uncomfortable as it would have been.

"It tends to seem that way after an extended amount of time."

His father's expression didn't change. Instead, he took his hat off and set it in his lap, revealing dirty blonde hair a bit silver from age. He nodded again. "I know. It has been a while."

And the conversation seemed to die. If all he wanted was to talk about was closed ended topics, then he could have just called him on the phone. His visit seemed to get more and more pointless as the minutes ticked by. Riku sighed and looked at his shoes.

"What did you want? I mean, you have to admit that this is a little weird."

"I know. It is a little weird." He shifted. "I don't suppose 'I missed you,' would be enough?"

He stole a glance up, just at his lips, just to see if they had turned up, to see if he was trying to make a joke, then turned his gaze right back to the floor. There was no such amusement on his face.

"Actually no, that doesn't really work."

"I didn't think so."

They were quiet again for several moments, until his father cleared his throat again. "Could I get a glass of water?"

Riku chewed the inside of his cheek, and nodded faintly, lifting himself off of the couch.

So this was how it was going to be…

"Do you want ice?"

XxX

Sora was outside the apartment building, running his hands through his hair. He hoped it wouldn't start raining before he figured out where he wanted to go. It occurred to him that grocery shopping would have been a productive use of his time, but he didn't really know what he needed to buy, and that would require him to go back into the apartment to get the list, and that simply wasn't an option. So, he paced around the front door for a little while, glancing occasionally at the sky.

It was definitely going to start raining soon.

With a grunt, he just started walking down the street. Little droplets of water started splattering on his face, and he grumbled. Riku had better be darned happy about all of the trouble he was going through just to give his father and him some privacy. He pulled his jacket around his body tighter and walked a little faster.

None of the buildings he passed seemed particularly interesting. There was a library, a few government buildings and a few more apartment complexes. He picked up his pace as the drops of rain intensified. He ran across an intersection, and finally his interest was roused. Just a few meters ahead of him sat a small café, specifically, the one Riku worked at. A grin spread across his face as he ran towards it.

He had never actually tasted any of the food there before, and he was curious about what type of place his roommate worked at. He opened the door, and the little bell chimed, and he was greeted with the smell of sugary goods and coffee. He decided he had just found the perfect place to spend the afternoon.

XxX

Riku waited patiently for his father to finish drinking. He heard the ice settle at the bottom of the glass, and the thump of the glass hitting the table. His father placed his hands back in his lap and let out a long sigh. "Thank you."

"No problem."

"So, I suppose you want to know why I'm here."

The possibility that there was a reason for this meeting had been all but forgotten by Riku at this point. He nodded expectantly.

"Well, the truth is, I just got out of jail."

The news didn't really surprise Riku all that much. It wasn't the first time his father had been put behind bars. He went once for evading some parking tickets, he had driven while drunk on multiple occasions. This was not news. It settled in his mind now that his father just wanted to borrow some money or something. He resisted the urge to throw him out right then and there. Instead, he sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "What did you do now?"

"Drunk driving."

"You've done that before."

"I know," he admitted, running a hand through his own hair. "But this time…I hit someone."


	9. Limit

Chapter nine is up! The cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter was really unintentional. Heh. Again, I don't really have any special notes about this one, except there may be a few really long sentences in here. Sorry. As usual, I don't own, so don't sue.

* * *

Riku's eyebrows shot up, and his mouth hung open. He was no stranger to his father's drinking habits; he had seen and heard him do multiple things that were less than legal, but he had never expected his father's alcohol problem to reach this level. "Did you—"

His father held up a hand. "No, I didn't kill him. He had a small fracture in his leg, and a heavily bruised abdomen, but I didn't know that while I was in jail."

Riku sank back into the couch, fully disgusted.

"It made me think," he cleared his throat. "About how I've been living, and what I've been doing. I'm not proud of much." He paused again and rubbed the stubble around his chin. "I kind of wanted to start over."

Riku fiddled with his hands absently. So it took almost killing a man to get him to change his life around? Riku knew close to nothing about his father's activities up until now, but a small part of him wished he had changed, at least a little. It never occurred to him that he had gotten worse. For all of these years, he had been out roaming the streets, getting into trouble, possibly winding up in jail multiple times before this incident. So nothing good had happened to him since he left? He was just now starting to change himself? Riku was positively convinced at this point that the man wanted money. He played along anyway.

"So you decided to start with me? Reconcile our relationship, or something."

"Actually, no." He drummed his fingers on his knees. "I sort of wanted to start it with your mother. I um...I called her while I was in there."

Riku would admit that he was a little startled by this. "Oh..."

"I don't really know why I wanted to, but I did. She says hi."

"...How is she?" He tried to make himself sound a little more eager, but wasn't sure if he was successful. His mother's activities were no longer his concern.

"She's doing well. She's happy. Got a new husband, takes care of his kids." He ran a hand through his hair, and cracked what seemed to be a smile for the first time that afternoon. "To tell you the truth, the whole conversation just pissed me off. I don't think I'll ever get over that woman."

He paused again, and Riku waited for him to continue. He stole a glance at his father's face while he was looking down. He didn't look like a man who wanted money. There were more emotions flickering around on that face than he had ever seen before, but none of them were of greed...

"We talked for a while, about us, about the past. But it was when she asked me how you were that I really understood how badly I messed up."

He looked at Riku squarely in the face, and Riku reflexively avoided his eyes.

His father continued. "I couldn't tell her. I couldn't tell her how you were, because I had no idea. I didn't know where you were, how you were doing, or if you were still breathing. It was the weirdest feeling, sitting there on the phone with your mom. I couldn't even lie to her; there was nothing to lie for." He paused again, and let out a heavy sigh. "She told me to go find you. I said some other things, but..." he glanced at the ceiling, "What I said isn't really important. Anyway, when my lawyer came, I asked him to find out where you were, I wrote you a letter, and then sent it. That was about the time I found out the guy I hit wasn't actually dead."

All Riku could say was "Oh." It seemed like a rather stupid and inappropriate expression at the moment, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything more. Then he felt his father's hands on his shoulders, and he nearly flew out of the chair. The grip was firm, but not painful, and he felt his fingers flex tentatively over his muscles. When had he moved? The conversation hadn't reached a violent level, but Riku felt like he was about to be thrown across the room. He squeezed his eyes closed.

"Riku, look at me." He gave his shoulders a small shake, and Riku thought he was about to come apart. "I want us to be like we're supposed to. None of this 'estranged' stuff. I'm here, you're here. It'll be good, I just know it will. Look at me. Come on, look at me."

But Riku couldn't even get his eyes to open, let alone look up.

"Listen, I understand if you don't believe me, but could you at least—"

"It's…it's not that. I just…can't."

XxX

Sora was overwhelmed with the scent of coffee and chocolate. He had half expected the small café to be overloaded to the point where he would be pushed out onto the sidewalk, but he was pleasantly surprised that he had missed the morning rush of customers. A few people dotted the tables, and a few more stood at the counter, but the store was relatively empty.

A lone boy swept up the crumpled up napkins and spilled coffee, while sporting a rather sour expression. Sora chose to sit in one of the tables farthest from him.

He felt a bit giddy, as he settled himself into one of the iron framed chairs. He felt like he was treading into some private sanctuary, a place somewhat personal to his roommate (forgetting the fact that it was a café open to the general public). Granted, the space wasn't nearly as personal as Riku's bedroom, and he didn't really have that all too familiar feeling of being some place he probably shouldn't be without permission, but he felt privileged all the same.

He glanced out the window at the steadily increasing amount of rain outside. It was undoubtedly going to be a mess trying to get out of there. He had gotten here with his clothing more or less in tact, but when he left, he feared his attire would suffer. Horrific images of mud stained shoes and drenched clothing flashed through his mind, and he grimaced. Given his current experiences in laundry, the damage was probably going to be permanent. Any normal person would have gone to get an umbrella, but _no_ he just had to rush out of the apartment without one, or a grocery list, or any other sort of helpful item. A cross word puzzle would have been particularly welcomed, for instance. He could have brought a newspaper. He supposed he could always just _buy_ one, assuming of course he remembered to bring some…

The grimace quickly turned into a look of absolute fury. He could stand no newspaper, no crossword, and even--as ridiculous as it sounded—an umbrella, but he would absolutely, under no circumstances stay in this café one second longer if he didn't have any money in his wallet. He would apologize to Riku later, but if he didn't even have a dollar to his name, he would rush home to get some money, no matter if he interrupted some joyous father-son game of Monopoly or not.

He rummaged around in his pocket for his wallet and quickly flipped it open. A storm of receipts flew all about, warranting a disapproving glance from the boy sweeping up the napkins a few tables away. Sora would pick them up later. He rummaged through the folds of leather and plastic, and discovered a sufficient amount of money nestled within. He let out a sigh of relief, and felt oddly like he had just disarmed a time bomb…while blindfolded.

The sweeping café employee approached Sora's table, jabbing at the receipts with his broom. He looked like he was having some sort of internal struggle over whether or not he wanted to say something. Apparently the requirements of his job won out, because before he knew it, his lips were forming a rehearsed and very forced greeting.

"Welcome to _The Filter_. My name's Roxas. Can I get you anything?" The latter part of the sentence was muttered so badly that it was almost unrecognizable.

Sora tapped his chin thoughtfully. He didn't even consider buying anything, as he was previously fuming over his potential lack in money. Now that it was mentioned, the idea seemed like a good one. He cast a glance towards the glass counter, sparsely occupied with desserts and coffee cakes.

"Um…well, what would you recommend?"

Roxas followed his gaze to the glass counter. "Coffee."

Sora frowned. "Well, I'm kind of hungry."

"I can put whipped cream in it if you want."

"…I was actually looking at the pastries."

"Well, there obviously aren't very many to pick from."

Sora raised an eyebrow. He had a feeling he wasn't going to get anywhere with this guy. "One would think you'd restock or something after the morning rush."

Roxas sighed and leaned on the broom. "Look, the guy that does all the baking had to take a _personal day_ or whatever. To put it simply, I don't bake. I sweep. And I can make coffee. You can have one of the five pastries that have been sitting there since I got here this morning, or you can have coffee that's actually hot." He swept up one of the receipts. "Or tea."

"I'll take my chances." He stood up to have a look, more for the satisfaction of being cantankerous than actually wanting a pastry.

Roxas sighed again and finished his sweeping before heading behind the counter to the cash register.

Sora scanned the meager supply of baked goods. Roxas was right. He settled on a Chocolate cream Horne.

Roxas eyed him irately before snatching up a sheet of baker's tissue and setting the pastry on a plate. "That'll be three forty seven." He waited as Sora rummaged through his wallet, and then grabbed the bill without waiting for it to be handed to him. "Out of five…" he muttered, then set the appropriate amount of change on the counter. "Enjoy."

Sora had the distinct feeling that he was being dismissed, and didn't appreciate it. For the simple fact that Sora wanted to _win_ (whatever that meant) he started up polite conversation.

"I…um…so, weather's really bad, isn't it?"

Roxas glanced at the window. "Yep. It's going to be fun walking home."

"No kidding." That's when it occurred to Sora that he very well could have taken his car. He grimaced for the umpteenth time that day. "Anyway, you said the guy that normally works here had to take a personal day off?" He stuck his finger in the cream center of the Horne and licked it off. He felt rather cleaver.

"Eh? Yeah. Don't tell my boss, but I was supposed to fill in for him in the back. But as I said earlier, I don't bake."

"So there's only one guy that does all the baking around here?"

"Beats me."

Sora rolled his eyes, and Roxas pushed the glass window back up behind the pastries. He glanced back up at Sora and decided to oblige in his sad attempts at conversation.

"I mean, there are probably more. I just know Riku."

"What, are you friends or something?"

"No."

Sora paused briefly to pluck the cherry on top off, and push it between his lips. "Then you shouldn't make a point of saying you know him. It implies that you're friends."

Roxas frowned. "What?!"

Sora didn't know what made him go that route, but for some reason, he found himself feeling oddly argumentative…and possessive. Perhaps it was just his competitive tendencies kicking in, but the thought of this Roxas person, who he already didn't like, knowing more about his roommate than he did, rubbed him the wrong way. After noting the questioning look in his face, Sora felt compelled to add. "He's my roommate, that's all."

Roxas shrugged and wiped the counter with a rag. "There's a customer behind you."

Sora noted the man behind him with faint interest, before tapping his finger on the freshly cleaned counter. He was officially in a bad mood. "You never asked me if I was finished with my order. I'd like a coffee…with whipped cream."

XxX

His father looked at him oddly. "What do you mean you can't? That doesn't make any sense." He waited for a few moments, but complete silence followed. He lifted his hands off of Riku's shoulders and sat back, rubbing his forehead thoughtfully. "What's going on?"

Riku couldn't even respond.

His father sighed again, and shook his head. "You know, you really are just like your mother. You're both incredibly stubborn."

Riku hitched at this. Did he not realize that that was precisely the problem? He did not want to be compared to his mother! His father hated her, he despised her! It was her absence that caused this whole mess in the first place. Riku couldn't have cared less about her departure, but she was all his father ever thought about. Not a day had gone by in his childhood that his father didn't declare how much he truly despised that woman, and for Riku to be compared to the one thing he hated most in his life; it was absolutely shattering. He caught the figure steadily shaking his head out of the corner of his eye, and it became clear to him right then. His father would never understand. Riku couldn't explain it, and he would feel ridiculous trying to do so. He was older now. He couldn't sit around harboring these feelings, least of all express them to his father. He felt it was impossible to communicate the issue properly; perhaps he should just let it go.

He sighed stiffly, and felt the pit of his stomach heave. There was a tightness in his chest, and a pressure he had never felt before weighing down upon him. He slid his eyes over to his right and slowly up his father's bicep and around the curve of his shoulder. He was nearing the point of becoming violently ill as his gaze made it to his neckline. His collarbone was hidden by the dark flaps of his collar, and he could see the shadowy outline of a throat. His hands were shaking at this point, and he felt nauseated and dizzy. His breath was leaving him. By the time his eyes reached the stubble of his father's chin, he thought he was going to fall apart. He never knew that his old habit could debilitate him so. Riku gulped as he saw his father's lips, nose, and finally the dark circles permanently etched under his eyelids.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

There was nothing abnormal about his father's eyes. They were simple and dark brown in color, perhaps a bit bloodshot and yellowed, but there wasn't anything mean or hateful about them. He expected to see his entire childhood violently flash within them. He expected to find scorn and rage. But there was nothing. There were passionless, and…normal.

Then why did he feel so completely helpless, right then? Why did he feel like a little boy shamefully sitting in the corner of his room as he listened to his father's drunken tirades downstairs, hoping that his still-missing mother would be the target of ridicule, rather than himself, and his unwanted blue eyes?

"_There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"_

Riku felt like his grand accomplishment had gone completely unnoticed. He had never felt so spineless and defeated as he did right then. A cold emptiness swept over him.

His father patted him lightly on the back. "Can we start over now? I know we can make it right this time."

Riku nodded limply and for a moment, felt sick of the entire thing. He was willing to just let everything go. It didn't matter anymore. He was tired of feeling this way, and he was tired of going to bed at night obsessing over his father and the visit. It was over. It was done. Whatever was supposed to happen in the future could go ahead and happen, and he wouldn't care how, just as long as the moment he was currently suspended in was over.

His father smiled and stood up. He was pleased when Riku stood up as well and followed him over to the door. He had a hard time containing his happiness. This visit had been easier than he had thought, and he was pleased.

"Riku," he started, giving his son's shoulder a shy, shake. "I…I don't know what else to say. I'm just glad we got to this point." He sized Riku up for a moment or two and felt compelled to ask him. "I know we just got together today and all, and I know we still have a lot to sort out, but…do you want to go grab a round of beers to celebrate?"


	10. Break

Chapter ten is up! It contains a smidgen of violence, Emotional!Riku (Sweet mother of cliché, **not** 'emo') and Snarky!Roxas. Feedback of all kinds will be appreciated.

I don't own so don't sue.

* * *

The suggestion struck Riku to his very core. "What?"

"I asked you if you wanted to go out and grab a beer to celebrate. I don't mind buying."

"I thought you just got out of jail for—"

His father held up a hand and grinned wryly. "I told you, I didn't actually kill the guy."

Riku's nausea intensified, and he truly thought he was going to be sick.

"Oh, don't give me that look. It's not like I'm asking you to go rob a bank. A couple of beers never hurt anyone."

"I don't believe it. You have got to be kidding me…" Then the nausea was joined with utter disbelief, perhaps denial. "What happened to _wanting to start over?_"

His father folded his arms impatiently. "I did. I spoke to your mother, I found you, and we're father and son again. The beer's just to help ease us into it. Besides, you look like you could use some—"

Riku rubbed his forehead in frustration. "You tell me you almost killed someone by driving drunk, proudly declare you want to change, and then you try and drag me out to get alcohol? Doesn't that seem just a little inappropriately timed to you?"

"It's for celebration's sake."

"I'm not going."

"Geez, Riku," He sighed scratching his dirty blonde hair with a twinge of irritation. "I've had a hard time these past couple of years, and coming to see you today wasn't especially easy either. I deserve a little break, but you and your mom refuse to give me one."

And that was when Riku snapped. "It's _supposed_ to be hard!" He shouted, surprising himself with his outcry. "Making a life change isn't supposed to be easy; if it was, you wouldn't learn anything! You don't know how hard it was for me to let you in here, let alone sit down and talk to you. I can't even look you in the eye without completely losing it. But I did it all because I had to! The fact that it's hard isn't an excuse!"

The next thing he knew, his head was forcefully jerked to the side, and a searing pain was spreading over his right cheek bone. It wasn't until his father's hand dropped down to his side that he realized he'd been hit.

"I have been dragged through the court system so many times I have my lawyer's number memorized." His father said darkly. "I've sat at every bar on this side of the country, drowning out my regrets one sweet bottle of liquor at a time, knowing that my life was so far down the hole I couldn't even see sunlight. I've sat in prison after almost killing, _**killing**_ someone, and all of it is because of your mother. She left me! She just left! You have no idea what that kind of pain is like. I loved her like I've never loved anyone else, and she betrayed me. Don't go lecturing me about dealing with life's hardships. You have no idea how hard it is to lose the one person you thought you could trust in this world!"

Riku gingerly touched the swollen area on his cheek, and he could understand why his right eye was watering so profusely. It was the tears falling from his left eye that he didn't understand.

Then, to his horror, he realized he was crying.

He brushed the area again, simultaneously wiping away the tears, then straightened up with the help of the doorknob. "I'm not going to argue with you over who had the harder time getting to this point," he said slowly; so fed up, so tired and _ill_ from all of this that he simply couldn't find the energy to sound argumentative. "But I do have a pretty good idea what it's like to lose someone you trust." His eyes were flashing at this point, but he couldn't bring his gaze any farther up than his father's chin. Riku didn't care though. He twisted the door knob he was gripping, and let the door swing open.

The man before him grunted, feeling a twinge of something like shame. He looked over his son, the tears, and he winced at the bruise. "Listen, I…"

"I'd like you to leave."

XxX

Sora merrily ate his Horne as he swung his feet underneath the table. He had considered other possible ways to irritate this Roxas character, and found that changing his order from a simple coffee with whipped cream to a roasted hazelnut Frappe blended with vanilla, topped with chocolate whipped cream and a mocha drizzle would do perfectly.

He glanced over the counter at him and grinned at the scowl occupying the young employee's face as he blended the coffee together. Sora supposed he should have felt ashamed of himself for acting so childish, but neither Riku nor Kairi were there to give him a hard time about it.

The man that had been standing behind him in line intelligently ordered a simple cup of tea.

Sora looked out the window again, this time watching the rain hammer against some poor cyclist as he waited on the corner for traffic to clear. His backpack and windbreaker were completely drenched, as were his helmet and bike. Sora was contemplating the likelihood of a car zooming past and sending a wave of water over him, when he heard a sharp tap from the corner of his table.

"Your roasted hazelnut frappe blend is ready." Roxas tossed a few napkins down next to the drink and glared at Sora irately. "Is _that_ all?"

Sora opened his mouth to say something smug, but changed his mind as he saw the positively homicidal glower sent down at him. "Yes, Thanks."

Roxas nodded, then headed behind the counter to clean up the utensils.

Sora sipped the iced coffee contentedly, only to find that he didn't particularly care for it. It had been fun picking out random and amusing ingredients to fluster the poor barista, but he didn't really like all of the fancy extracts and creams blended in. When it came right down to it, he really preferred the generic coffee Riku made every morning.

But he wasn't about to say anything to Roxas.

He did like the chocolate whipped cream though, and spent a fair amount of time sucking it down loudly with his straw.

A while later, Sora felt the odd sensation that he was alone. He brushed the crumbs off his lips and looked around hesitantly, to find that he was in fact, the only customer in the café.

The man with the tea had gone, the other few customers had probably headed out a while ago. Even the cyclist on the corner had managed to cross the street. Sora glanced back up at the counter, and found that Roxas was no where to be found either.

Surely the place wasn't closed already!

Locking someone inside a closed café _did_ seem like something that shady Roxas character would have done, Sora thought, as he surveyed the area once more just to make sure. The place was positively barren.

He was just about to get up to pry the door open, when he heard a clatter coming from behind the counter. The doors to the back swung open, and there was the boy in question, gripping a metal baking sheet, looking somewhat distressed.

Roxas caught Sora's questioning gaze and offered a small shrug. "I thought I'd at least attempt baking a couple pans of oatmeal-raisin cookies. The counter looks kind of pathetic." He then proceeded to shuffle the contents of the tray into the glass display counter, onto one of the platters.

Both of them scrunched up there noses.

The confections may have been freshly made, but they were misshapen and dark on the bottom. Something that looked like a cross between an owl and a partially crushed telephone was especially burned, so Roxas tried his best to hide it behind the others.

"Um," he sighed, "Maybe I'd better not try to replace the croissants…"

"They're not that bad," Sora offered. "They're like...snow flakes." He wasn't exactly interested in being nice, but he did have a certain level of sympathy for people that weren't especially good at cooking…or taking out the trash…or doing laundry.

Roxas shrugged. "Whatever." He too surveyed the restaurant, and found that it was empty except for himself and Sora. Rather than lament over his wasted efforts to make the pastries, he tried to pick up on some of that small talk his only customer seemed to be fond of. "So…what's your name anyway?"

"Sora," he said, turning around in his chair.

"Well Sora, what brings you here…for such a long period of time?"

"What?"

Roxas tilted his head towards the clock on the wall. "You've been here for almost three hours. I could see it if you were here with someone, or if you were… I don't know, reading the paper, but you're just sitting there giving me a hard time." He grinned, something Sora had thought he was incapable of. "My charming personality and lovable disposition are reputable, but I doubt that's why you're here in the middle of a downpour."

Sora shrugged, noting that the conditions outside had only lessened a little. "I had some time to kill."

"Well, how much time are you planning on wasting here?"

Sora frowned. "Why does it matter?!"

"To be perfectly honest, the sooner you leave, the sooner I get to take the break I'm not supposed to have for another two hours."

Sora snorted and pushed the chair in front of him out with his foot. "You can sit. I won't tell."

Roxas looked at him hesitantly, then shifted his gaze to the chair. Sora didn't seem to care one way or the other, so Roxas slipped from the back of the counter to the chair he was offered.

"Thanks."

"Whatever. Just don't make a habit out of it."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Right."

The two stared out the window for a few moments, and commented here and there about the weather's condition, betting on how long it would be before it stopped. The rain did appear to be slowing down some. Sora liked the idle chatter, even though he wasn't particularly fond of the person he was having it with. He had to admit though, that the longer he stayed, the more he enjoyed the company.

"That's why it always rains when you're not prepared for it." Roxas finished, satisfied.

Sora opened his mouth to deny and find his own counter points for everything Roxas had just said, but he stopped to sniff the air. "Hey…do you smell that?"

Roxas sniffed the air as well and paused for a moment. "Hm… that kinda smells like…" his eyes shot open and he launched himself from the chair. "That other pan of cookies!"

"Might wanna go check on that."

Roxas glared at him before running to the back of the café into the kitchen. He returned a short while later with a pan of smoldering brown lumps.

Sora covered his nose. "Geez, what did you do, broil them?"

"No! I left them in the oven after I took out the first pan because they weren't quite done yet!"

"Well, they're done no—"

"Shut up!" He rummaged around in the drawer for a spatula and scraped the burned mounds into the trash. After examining the baking pan, he tossed it in the trash as well. "This is coming out of my paycheck."

"It might."

He ignored Sora and groaned, tilting his head towards the ceiling. "Riku, why did you do this to me? You couldn't have taken off when someone _else_ could fill in?"

Sora's ears perked at the mention of his roommate's name. "Speaking of whom, I should probably get back home. He should have had enough time."

"Enough time to what?"

"Nothing," Sora waved him off and pulled himself out of his seat. "You might want to open a window or something. It smells really bad."

"Yeah, thanks." He rolled his eyes. "Wanna rub some salt and lemon juice in the wound while you're at it?"

"If you've got some handy."

"Bye Sora."

"Bye."

He made his way to the door and pushed it open, hearing the little bell jingle as he left. The rain was nothing more than mist at this point, but Sora still hurried home to avoid as much moisture as possible.

XxX

Sora headed up the elevator of the apartment complex while whistling merrily to himself. Overall, the day would have been rather enjoyable if not for the rain. He heard his shoes squeak on the hard and previously clean elevator floor.

The elevator doors opened with a shrill _ding_ and he stepped out and onto the patterned carpeting. The warm glow of incandescent light bulbs surrounded him, and it was comforting after walking alone in the cold rain. He grinned at the familiar row of doors with the gold numbering, eager to find his own door and plunge the key into the lock. He hoped Riku was in the mood for talking, as he could think of a hundred questions he wanted to ask the boy. He also wanted to give him a piece of his mind regarding his walk in the rain, but that part of their conversation wasn't nearly as anticipated as his questioning. Sora was going to positively _squeeze_ every last detail right out of his roommate.

He counted the numbers of the apartments silently and grinned when he approached his own door. He jammed the key in the doorknob and entered.

It felt marvelous to be home! He kicked off his shoes and immediately began surveying the living room for Riku.

He wasn't there.

Sora shrugged and headed into the kitchenette, calling out his roommate's name. There was no answer; the kitchen was empty.

Sora was baffled as he headed down the hall. Then it occurred to him that his roommate was in his room sleeping, and he was probably right, as the door was closed.

He grunted. There was no way a little thing like sleep was going deprive him of a proper interrogation. He rapped on the door sharply and called his name loudly. "Riku! Hey! I'm home!"

There was some shuffling, and a distinctly _not-sleepy_ voice followed. "Sora? That you?"

"Yep," he chirped. "If you aren't doing anything, then get out here. I wanna talk!"

There was a pause before the voice that followed, and Sora wondered if he had interrupted something.

"Yeah," Riku said at last, somewhat hesitantly. "I'll be out in a minute."

Sora was satisfied and headed out into the living room to wait.

It was a full seven minutes before Riku emerged, Sora observed, and he wasn't happy about having to wait so long either. If he was going to take that long he should have at least fixed his hair. It was combed over awkwardly, completely covering his right eye. Sora shook his head.

"Alright, what?"

"What do you mean _'What?'_" Sora bounced up and down on the couch, outraged at such an idiotic question. "How did it go?! What happened? What was it like?"

Riku sighed, running his hand along the arm of the couch before sitting down a fair distance away from Sora. "Uh, it was um…different."

"Uh-huh!" Sora's eager expression hadn't changed. "And?"

"And…that's it."

"You can't be serious."

"I…am." He cleared his throat and turned his head away.

Sora looked disappointed for a minute, but then his face brightened suddenly. "Oh! Oh I get it!"

Riku held back an eye roll. "Something tells me that you don't."

"No, no!" Sora scooted over and jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. "It's all perfectly clear Mister I'm-too-cool-to-admit-that-Sora-was-right."

"What?"

"Yeah! I bet you two had a great time and really did want that spiced cider—"

Riku held up a hand and cut him off before he could go off on something completely ridiculous. "No Sora, we didn't want any spiced cider. It's exactly like I told you. I don't have anything else to say."

There was a flatness in his voice that led Sora to think he was lying. He sounded mechanical and cold.

Sora sat back into the couch. "You know," he started carefully, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. "It's okay if things didn't work out how you wanted. I mean, no one could have predicted how everything was going to go, and maybe it just wasn't meant to be." He glanced over at Riku who was trying his best to face the other direction. Sora pursed his lips. "You know?"

"Yeah."

"Um…and who knows?" Sora tried again. "You may have another opportunity to try again in the future. Your dad has probably realized by now that he's missing out on a pretty great guy. He's probably planning on his next visit as we speak." He smiled nervously, but Riku still wasn't facing him.

Sora raised an eyebrow. "Riku?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you."

He sighed. "I'm fine Sora."

"I still don't believe you."

Riku sighed again, this time with more frustration. "Well, I guess there isn't anything I can do about that, now is there?"

Sora pursed his lips again, gulping before starting. "Then turn around."

Riku's back stiffened. "Why?"

"Because then I'll be able to tell if you're lying. I want to see your face."

"Sora—"

"Just do it! I won't leave you alone until you do."

Riku seemed to wrestle with the idea for a moment or two, and then he realized that there was probably truth in those words. Smoothing his hair down reflexively, he turned slowly.

Sora stared at Riku.

Riku stared at the floor.

It was silent for a few moments, but Riku broke it. "Can we change the subject now?"

Sora was examining his face closely; he was practically on top of Riku, which made him flinch uncomfortably.

"What are you doing?"

"Be quiet for a minute."

"Sora!"

"I'm examining you."

"Well stop it. It's creeping me out."

"Shut up."

Another minute or two passed, and Riku was feeling _more_ than uncomfortable. Finally, Sora sat back against the couch and let out a stream of air.

"Are you finished?"

Sora nodded. "I just wish you'd tell me what's wrong."

"I already told you."

Riku was waved away. "I know what you said. I just…I know I haven't been living with you for a full year yet, but I'd like to think you trust me enough to at least help you out. We're pretty good friends, right?"

Riku chewed his lip. "Yes, we are."

"Then let me help you. I may not be able to offer advice, but at least I can listen."

There was something in his voice that made Riku's heart hurt. It was so warm, and inviting, and _honest_. He wanted to say something…_everything_ but there was an uncertainty he simply couldn't get past. Sora wasn't just trying to guilt him into talking, and he was sure he wasn't egging him of just for the information. Sora genuinely wanted to help; Riku didn't even have to look at him in order to see that. So why was he feeling so hesitant? Was it that he felt undeserving? Shy? Embarrassed? He thought it was a mixture of all three, but then he couldn't be sure. The answer was simple, but too complicated for Riku to even come close to figuring out.

He shifted nervously, running a hand down his face.

Sora waited patiently, watching closely. He saw the emotions flickering around his roommate's face, like they did that morning on the balcony. But these were not the same ones he had seen. These made Sora feel nervous. These were pained, uncertain in an entirely different way, and they made his chest ache.

Riku's movements were slow. He ran his hand down his face again, this time stopping a little above his nose. With a sigh, he let his fingers lace into the silver locks of hair, and pulled them back just far enough to expose the area around his right eye.

Sora's breath hitched. "Riku, what happened?!"

Riku didn't know what to say. It didn't matter though, because Sora reached out and tilted his chin this way and that, examining the side of his face tenderly.

Riku closed his eyes involuntarily, and grimaced as Sora's fingers brushed the edge of the bruised skin.

"Riku, please tell me he didn't hit you..."

"It was really my fault. I shouldn't have—"

Sora shook his head. "No, don't. There's nothing you could have done to make him…" he chewed his lip. "Did you put ice on it?"

"Earlier."

"You need more. Can you see?"

"A little."

Sora nodded, but alarm washed over him again. He couldn't keep the panic out of his voice. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Riku, if I had known he was going to beat you up I never would have—"

"It's just my eye." He muttered.

"I don't believe this. I'm so sorry." Sora slid his hands down his face to cup his chin. "Listen to me," Sora said seriously, staring intently at Riku's closed eyes. "I don't care how badly he wants to see you again. Anyone, especially your own father has no right to hurt you like this. Don't give him the satisfaction of getting to know you." Sora couldn't help himself. He was so disgusted with his father's actions, and his condition that he pulled Riku close, hugging him tightly.

Riku couldn't bear it. He felt tears running down his face, stinging his swollen eye and pooling into Sora's shirt. He found himself clinging to Sora, barely holding back his shudder.

And then he started talking.

He told Sora everything; from the way his mother left his father and him too many years ago to remember, to the letters, the alcohol and the fights. He told him about his mother's eyes, and how his father came home every night in a drunken tirade screaming about her new life and how she didn't deserve him. He told Sora about leaving, about how he still couldn't look people straight in the eye, and how he couldn't bring his gaze any farther up to a person's neckline without becoming dizzy and nauseous. He told about how his father requested he do it earlier, that he came so close to suffocating that he could feel his own heart heaving in his throat.

He told Sora everything, even things he didn't remember up until now. It all came out so easily, freely. He just talked and talked, and Sora listened. Riku wasn't even sure if he was making sense anymore.

When he finished, he was still holding onto Sora. He felt better, _so_ much better.

Sora didn't say anything for a long while after. He was so quiet Riku wondered if he had said too much. Then, Sora pushed Riku back gently by the shoulders. "Riku," he said quietly, chewing his lip. "I want you to open your eyes."


	11. Mend

Hello everyone! Thank you so very much for reading. This chapter is a tad shorter than the rest, simply because...it...is. Hmm.

Some notes: Due to certain scholastic endeavors (aka college), I'm probably..._definitely_not going to be able to update every week. However, I do have a little while left before it starts up, so I'll try to have this whole story finished before I leave. This either means I'll be updating my pants off for the next week or two, or the schedule will continue to be as it is (albeit more consistent), as I will have already written all of the chapters. In either case, chapters (HOPEFULLY) won't be as far apart. Yay? Maybe?

* * *

Riku stiffened. "Sora, I can't—"

"Yes you can."

"Sora…"

"Riku, just try."

Riku shook his head with such certainty that Sora felt his heart hammer painfully in his chest.

And suddenly he felt stupid.

Sora was no therapist, he wasn't a counselor; he wasn't anything but a boy from a city several miles away that happened to find a reasonable person to let him into his apartment. He couldn't take out the trash, or do laundry, or cook, or do multiple other domestic tasks that everyone and their little sister had probably known how to do for years. He had no idea what he was doing.

Here he was, cupping Riku's face—the same Riku that he had only known for a few months, and had caught him snooping in his room only hours before this moment and had no reason to trust him—urging him to surmount an imbedded childhood trauma like he was some sort of professional. What had he been thinking? Such an ambition was completely out of his league.

A lump of utter helplessness rose in Sora's throat.

And then Riku sniffed, bringing Sora back to the situation at hand. His eyes fluttered a bit under his lids.

Sora held his breath for a reason he did not know, his heart beating a bit fast as Riku's dark lashes lifted a bit.

But they were back down again before Sora could exhale.

"I'm sorry Sora…I just can't," Riku mumbled, rubbing his hands up and down his face.

He watched Riku shake his head over and over again, silver locks of hair brushing gently against his swollen and badly discolored cheek, and suddenly, he felt angry.

He was angry at himself, angry at Riku's father, angry at the world for putting this poor, trembling person through such misery. Then that feeling of possessiveness returned, along with a load of other emotions he could only describe collectively as frustration, until he felt he would explode. This was…not fair. This was not fair. This was not _**fair**__._

He did not understand how one person could be so unknowingly cruel, so blatantly unaware of his own son's suffering. It made him sick.

Now Sora felt more determined than ever, and simply wouldn't allow himself to fail Riku; not like his mother had, not like his father had.

"Listen, Riku," Sora started as calmly as possible, shoving all of his uncertainty out of his mind. "I'm not your dad. I'm not even mad at you. It's okay." He thought for a moment. "Um," he tried, "I've never seen your mom, so I don't have anything to compare your eyes to."

Sora still felt hesitancy, but waited a little longer for Riku to run the words through his mind.

Riku gnawed the inside of his cheek nervously. Sora was right. This was completely different than earlier. Sora was someone he could handle. There was no reason to behave this way; there was no logic behind it anymore. This was sweet, pure, honest, naïve little Sora. This was _safe._ He hammered the little mantra in his mind a few times before considering his situation a bit more.

He had done this before, right? The ceiling didn't crash down on top of him, the floor didn't open up and monsters didn't drag him down to the center of Earth. His father's eyes weren't even that terrible to look at, so he could only imagine Sora's to be at least somewhat better, after all, the two actually got along. It was so silly to be afraid, _pointless_ to even have so much of a conflict with it.

As he opened his eyes, he found his gaze on Sora's knees, but for some reason, the pit of his stomach felt strange. He gulped hard and ignored it; forcing himself to press ahead. As his eyes traveled up, other parts of Sora's body had come into focus; his slim waist, his thin arms, his shoulders and neck.

He felt it then. The nauseousness from earlier had returned as did the lightheadedness . He swallowed to quell it, but he felt his pulse quicken and his heart hammer in his chest.

Riku didn't understand why this was happening. He had done it earlier, and this time it was _Sora_. He could feel the boy's hands around his face, feel the anticipation welling up inside him. Sora's encouragement was almost tangible.

As his eyes traveled up, the nauseousness increased to an almost unbearable level, and he felt his stomach heave.

With a burst of will, he forced his eyes up to meet Sora's, but only for a moment did he see the shining blue of his irises, because he quickly found that he could not do this twice in one day. His stomach heaved again, and it was all he could do to keep the contents within down.

Frustrated, he muttered an apology and leapt off the couch and dashed down the hallway to the bathroom.

Sora frowned, still processing what he had just seen. Not one, single, solitary instance in his entire time at this apartment had Riku ever looked him in the eye. He had caught glimpses of green, or blue before quickly disappearing under dark-lashed lids, but never had he seen them full and wide like he did just then. He half expected them to be haunting or ghastly in some particular manner. The way Riku went on about how abhorred and repulsive they were, Sora would have thought them to be odd, misshapen, splotchy or perhaps defective from birth.

But he had never known them to be such a unique and stunning hue throughout. He had never seen that color on another person before, and quite frankly, he was speechless. They were wild and beautiful; they added passion to an otherwise fairly stoic face. It was saddening to know that someone would want to hide something so distinctive and charming. He didn't understand.

Sora sighed, rubbing his own temples. Riku was getting there, but there was no doubt in his mind that this was going to take a while. He wasn't going to give up.

He stood up and followed Riku into the bathroom, where he found Riku weakly trying to quell his nerves and involuntarily twitching muscles.

Sora felt his heart well up.

Wincing at the violently flexing muscles of his arms and chest, Sora thought the least he could do was quietly wait for him to relax.

When Riku calmed down a bit, sat roughly on the closed toilet lid, hammering his fist onto the counter.

He muttered something that Sora could only assume to be profanity and gritted his teeth. "Sora," he paused to clear his throat, trying to push the frustration from his voice. "I...don't know what to do anymore."

"It's okay," he smiled. "Don't worry, I'll help you." Riku didn't look anywhere near convinced, but Sora was determined. "It might take some time, but you _will_ be able to look people in the eye again."

The infirmary sounded even more ridiculous out loud, Riku thought, but he nodded anyway.

Sora frowned, but decided he wouldn't be able to convince Riku until he had actually done it. He decided to change the subject. "Um...anyway, we might as well get some more ice on that eye. I'll be right back."

XxX

A loud whistle rang throughout the café as Riku slid from behind the counter. To his horror, he found that his boss and Roxas had made the noise simultaneously.

"Look at that shiner!" His boss gawked, leaning in too close for comfort. Roxas' eyes bulged a little as he leaned on the broom he was using.

Riku rolled his eyes and slid around the two; attempting to go through the back doors and avoid the questions, but his boss had followed him in.

"So, you wanna tell us what happened? Don't tell me you took a personal day to go get in bar fights!"

Riku rolled his eyes again and pulled on an apron. "No, it wasn't a bar fight. Can I _please_ get started now?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. I get it." He waved him away as he headed out the door.

Moments later, Riku heard his voice from the front of the restaurant.

"Roxas! Get in there and help Riku! I saw what you baked yesterday, and quite frankly, I don't understand why I hired you."

There was a pause.

"I _know_ you only applied to be a cashier."

Another pause.

"Fair enough. Just get in there and bake something that _doesn't _look like...anything you made yesterday."

As Riku had expected, the kitchen doors flew open, and in trudged Roxas, who stared at him only briefly before washing his hands at the sink.

"You're not going actually going to make me do anything, are you?"

Riku turned the faucet off from washing his own hands, and floured the counter. "I can't really _make_ you do anything."

"So if I just sit here and randomly say, 'Yeah, I get it,' you're not going to tell the boss I just sat here randomly saying, 'Yeah I get it'?"

Riku smirked. "No."

"Good." Roxas hunted around for a stool, then positioned it close enough to the counter that it looked like he was doing something, yet far enough away that he didn't have to touch anything. "So what are we making today?"

Riku shook his head and headed over to the freezer for the dough. "Cranberry scones."

"Sounds great."

Riku raised his eyebrow, rummaging through the freezer. "That's weird. I had two bags of pre-made scone dough, and they're both gone."

Roxas tilted back and fourth on his stool. "Are you talking about that really thick, light colored dough with the raisins in it?"

Riku closed the freezer. "No, I'm talking about that really thick, light colored dough with the _cranberries_ in it."

Roxas shrugged. "Do the cranberries look like raisins?"

"…Yes."

Roxas looked thoughtful. "Do me a favor and see if there's oatmeal-raisin cookie dough in there."

Riku wrinkled his nose. "We don't _sell_ oatmeal-raisin cookies."

"...Oh. Hmmm. That's rather unfortunate."

"Great." Riku huffed. "Mind telling me where it all went?"

"I don't really see why it's relevant."

"It's just a formality," Riku said sarcastically.

"Well," Roxas started, looking purposefully at the ceiling. "If you must know, I kind of baked it all yesterday, and when I say _baked_ I mean _burned_ and when I say _it all_ I mean the scone dough that I mistook for oatmeal-raisin cookie dough."

Riku's jaw hung open, and Roxas was mildly offended.

"Don't do that," he snapped, hopping off the stool. "With your black eye you look like a raccoon in headlights."

Riku frowned and heaved a bag of flour onto the counter. "Oh, shut up."

Roxas climbed back onto the stool and teetered on it precariously. "Oh, by the way, I talked to your roommate yesterday."

"Who, Sora?"

"Yep."

Riku clenched his jaw. He had forgotten to ask Sora what he had done all day the day before, but it never occurred to him that he would spend his time _here._ He cautiously shoved the next words through his teeth. "What did you talk about?"

Roxas shrugged. "Not much. The rain, coffee, the rain, the rain, my terrible baking skills, the rain, the rain, the rain, and the storm that rolled in that afternoon."

Riku didn't exactly understand why, but he let out a sigh of relief.

"But," Roxas said pointedly, "That guy has a few bats in his belfry, if you ask me."

Riku nodded, completely understanding where Roxas was coming from. "He can be a bit...extreme at times."

"Putting it mildly, yes."

"He's not from around here though."

"I know, he's from Mars—"

"Sora is _not_from Mars. Stop it." Riku poured a fair amount of dried cranberries into a bowl. "He's different, but not _bad_ different."

Roxas tipped back on the stool again, this time almost too far. "Don't get me wrong, he's not a bad guy to talk to. I actually enjoyed his company."

Riku looked at him from the corner of his eye and couldn't help but notice how Roxas and Sora had the bad habit of teetering on the legs of furniture. "Don't fall. You're going to have to make the icing for these while they're in the oven."

"What?! No way!" It was at this moment that Roxas leaned too far over, and the stool, as well as Roxas, tumbled to the floor.

"Oops."

XxX

Over the next few days, Sora tried his best to help Riku with his eye contact problem, but he didn't want to force anything onto him, nor did he want to make the situation any worse. Creativity seemed to fail him for quite a while, and the thought of barging in Riku's room, demanding that he look him square in the face didn't seem reasonable at all.

He remembered the look on his face that day, the terror in his eyes, the pallor of his skin. If he was going to do anything, it was going to be slow and easy, because he couldn't bring himself to cause someone else that type of pain again. Still, he was at a loss for what to do, and no ideas seemed to be immediately beneficial.

Riku was focusing on the dark area around his right eye. Over the past several days it had been lightening, and his vision had more or less returned to normal. His cheek was still sore, but he could put up with it for the next few days until it fully healed.

He hadn't heard a word from his father—not that he had put much thought into the issue—and just assumed he'd gone back to wherever he came from. This thought put him at relative peace.

Sora, however, unnerved him a bit. He could tell he was still intent on breaking his phobia, but he wasn't so sure he wanted to deal with it anymore. He had been living this long with it, and the thought of continuing on that way didn't faze him much, especially since he knew the amount of strain it would take to break it.

Sora was not one to be stopped, and Riku found this out rather quickly.


	12. Plan

Chapter twelve is up! That means there are two or so left to go! I don't own any of the characters, so please don't sue me.

* * *

Sora grinned as he woke up that morning. He had come up with a brilliant plan to help Riku. He wasn't sure Riku would agree to it completely, but he hoped that he would at least give it a try. Quickly getting dressed, he met him in the kitchen.

One hundred-percent-necessary cup of coffee in hand, Riku regarded Sora with an eyebrow raise. He proudly stomped in—fully dressed and ready to go—and announced that he was going to walk Riku to work.

He was slightly taken aback at the suggestion. He even asked him to repeat it just to make sure he heard it right. Sora gladly told him as much again, and even added more emphasis with a thumbs-up sign.

Sora was constantly contradicting his own sleep patterns, but Riku shrugged it off. He didn't have any immediate objections, as he wasn't one to be stopped anyway. So long as it didn't interfere with him getting to his job on time, Riku was perfectly fine with it.

In the back of his mind, he wondered what had sparked the sudden enthusiasm to follow him to the drab little café a few blocks away, but Riku had long ago decided not to assess the Sora Phenomenon with too much deliberation, as the whole process just made his head hurt.

Instead, he happily poured Sora a mug full of the remaining coffee and he even opened the door for him when they stepped outside.

Had he known that Sora was just using the walk as an early morning therapy session, he might have been a bit less hasty with agreeing to it.

Sora on the other hand was thrilled to get things rolling along. Riku was a clever one, and he had to be addressed tactfully. If Sora wanted this to work—and he very much so did—he would have to go about his presentation very carefully. "Riku, how are you feeling?" Sora started, sounding a bit unsure as the two of them stepped out onto the driveway.

"Fine, why?"

Sora looked down. "Um, are you in a good mood today?"

"...Yes..."

"Are you sure you feel okay?"

Riku rolled his eyes. "Yes Sora. I feel great. Do you want something?"

Sora frowned, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Well, I just wanted to...talk to you about something."

"What?"

"Well, I kind of had this idea, and I think it's a good one."

Riku frowned. "Does it involve me?"

"Yes."

"Does it have anything to do with why you decided to walk me to work today?"

"Yes."

Riku rolled his eyes, debating over whether or not he even wanted to know. "Sora..."

He drew out his most irresistible expression. "Please? Just hear me out?"

Riku found that he really didn't have a choice in the matter, as the both of them were already walking. Grimly, he nodded his head.

"Now," Sora explained, staring pointedly at the side of Riku's face. "This is what we're going to do. As I'm sure you've noticed, you're not the only one that uses this sidewalk in the morning." He paused to wave as an early morning jogger passed.

"Yeah...so?" He had had a vague idea of what Sora was hinting at, but he hoped that he was wrong.

"Well, I want you to look at each one of them and wave good morning."

Riku's jaw dropped. The suggestion was so ridiculous he was even surprised Sora was voicing it. "Sora, do you know how absurd that sounds? I'm not five."

Sora folded his arms. "I know, but it will help you. I'm sure if it."

Riku prodded his brain for some other objections. Sora proved to be one tenacious person, Riku observed. As far as he was concerned this idea involved some fairly humiliating, easier-said-than-done devices that he wasn't sure he wanted to be a part of. He was a fairly agreeable person, but even he had his limits. "I want you to really think about what you're suggesting here. I walk by these people every morning. If I start just talking to them out of the blue, they're going to think I've completely lost my mind."

"Well, maybe they'll think you've stopped being antisocial."

"I'm not antisocial."

"Great. Prove it to me _and _them."

Apparently he wasn't going to win that argument. Riku wasn't about to give up though. "Sora," he began again, this time a bit more seriously. "Forcing me to look at people isn't going to solve anything. Remember what happened before?"

"That's exactly why this is a good idea!" Sora grinned, and Riku felt nauseous for an entirely different reason. "The last time, we were sitting face to face on the couch, and it was a pretty intense environment. _Now_ you're just watching people walk past you. The encounter will be brief, and if you don't get it the first time, you can just try again with the next person." Sora's grin turned into a smirk. "My plan's actually rather ingenious, don't you think?"

And that was how the whole thing started. Sora had _tricked_ him. That was the plain and simple truth.

Riku almost started whining when he felt himself losing the battle, but he remembered that he was in public—a point he hadn't paid much attention to until now— and his own pride wouldn't allow him to break down from a suggestion. Even though the idea had been rather simple, it seemed as though Sora had put a fair amount of thinking into the arguments for it. He would have patted Sora on the back if he hadn't been so against it. At this point, Riku was just grateful that the twenty minute walk to work was _only_ twenty minutes.

But Riku ended up participating. It had been hard at first—it still _was_ hard, but Sora seemed satisfied that he was at least giving it a try. The walk wasn't very long, and Riku found that Sora ended up spending the first seven minutes of it asking him (repeatedly) how he was feeling anyway. He found that he could tolerate it...to an extent. The two of them started this routine—though Riku had a lot less to do with the decision than Sora did.

"So, how are you feeling?" Sora asked, falling into step with Riku one morning. It had been a few days since they first started doing this, but Sora still felt compelled to assess Riku's mood.

"You just asked me that question three minutes ago." Riku responded in his usual manner, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Well, have you changed?"

"No. I'm still fine."

"Good." Sora smirked. "How about now?"

"I'm getting mildly irritated."

Sora paused. "And now?"

"Cut it out." Riku good-naturedly shoved his shoulder, sending a stumbling Sora a few feet ahead of him.

"I was just making sure," Sora chuckled, rubbing his nose.

"I'm not a china doll, Sora. I'm not going to break just because I'm walking to work."

"Yeah, well...you...look...like one?"

Riku rolled his eyes and sent a hand through his hair. "I'm going to have to ban you from walking me to work."

Sora shrugged, falling back into step with him. "You really can't stop me."

"That's wishful thinking on your part."

"Riku!"

Riku patted him on the head. "I was kidding, Sora."

"Yeah, well, you were awfully convincing."

"Yeah, well, you're awfully—"

Sora cut him off, nearly pulling his arm off in the process. "Look! Here comes someone!"

It was a woman jogging with her dogs. Her headphones were in, blaring some upbeat techno into her ears as her auburn ponytail bobbed up and down. Riku gulped, feeling a bit like a predator stalking prey as he watched her approach. She seemed to come in slow motion; her dogs jumping around her feet, her rubber shoes hitting the sidewalk with dull, rhythmic thumps.

He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, Sora's eyes boring into him, and he really didn't want to disappoint him...again. The cold, nervous feeling returned, but the nausea wasn't as prevalent.

She glanced up at him and flashed a smile, nearly tripping over one of the leashes in the process. Riku bit down on the inside of his cheek to snap himself together. He managed a smile, and he briefly, _very briefly_ flashed his eyes upward to meet hers.

The lady jogged on down the sidewalk, and Sora was slamming his hand onto Riku's shoulder blades, grinning like he'd just watched a whale being born at the city aquarium.

"Riku!" He squealed, slapping him across the back a few more times. "I'm so proud of you! You did it!"

"Yeah...um...thanks?" He couldn't help but blush. He felt a bit ashamed that he was glad over something so seemingly ridiculous, but Sora was acting like he had just scaled a mountain with nothing but a rubber band and his teeth.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"No, what is it?" Sora stopped patting him just before Riku thought he was starting to bruise.

"It's not really anything...I just...I don't know, I just feel kind of silly."

Sora scrunched his face up in disbelief. "Why on Earth would you feel silly?"

"You don't think it's a little strange to be happy you've done something normal people do everyday?"

"I don't have a problem being happy."

Riku smiled. "I know you don't, but I just think it's weird."

Sora's eyes softened a little. "Riku, you shouldn't minimize your problems like that."

"I'm not minimizing them, I'm just..."

"That's exactly what you're doing," Sora said matter-of-factly. "You can't gauge your problems with everyone else's, because they aren't you and you aren't them. Different things affect people different ways."

"I know, but...this is just silly." Riku sighed, rubbing the only slightly swollen area around his eye. It had heeled a lot, and it was now only faintly bluish. "I mean, I could see it if I couldn't swim, or get on an airplane or something, but I_ seriously _can't look people in the eye. Doesn't that sound stupid?"

Sora frowned. "I don't think it sounds stupid at all."

"Of course you don't."

"No, I really don't think it sounds stupid. I think it's really unfair. You don't get to look at other people the way everyone else does. You can tell a lot about a person from their eyes; if they're happy, sad, bored, tired. I think it's sad that you've missed out on such an important way of communicating, and it's all because your dad robbed you of it when you were little."

Riku could only grunt in reply. He supposed there was a lot more to Sora than not being able to do household chores. What he lacked in skills and logistics, he more than made up for with heart. He supposed that he could start giving him more credit than he had been so far, after all, Sora had been putting a lot of effort into helping him. Sora didn't have to do it; he probably had much better things to do with his time. Riku couldn't imagine why he even _wanted_ to, yet here he was, walking Riku to work every morning, pointing out people for him to wave at.

And the most astounding part of it all was that it was actually working.

"Oooh! Riku, look!" Sora grabbed his arm again, and Riku was met with the sensation that his shoulder was being jerked out of place. Along with the bruises, this walk was starting to feel like a fist fight. "Ow, Sora."

"Look, look, look! Here comes someone else!"

A little boy clutching a toy car in one hand and his mother's paint-stained fingertips in the other approached them. He attempted to pull his thumb into his mouth, but since both hands were occupied, he decided against it.

Sora was grinning encouragingly from Riku's right as the two approached. He felt a wave of nausea but he tried his best to settle it. If he could make it past this, he would break his old record of two people.

The woman seemed to have paint stains on her shirt and denim shorts as well, and Riku briefly wondered if she was an artist or simply a mom that liked to help her son with finger paint.

She smiled warmly at the two of them, and nudged her son to do the same.

"Say 'good morning,' sweetie."

Sora smiled and offered a wave, while Riku was already starting to feel drained. If this kept up, he doubted he would be in the mood to work. He sighed, wondering if breaking the record was really worth it, and decided that perhaps looking at the child would be easier than the adult.

Glancing downward, he regarded the boy with a quick flick of his gaze and a small smile.

Riku felt a little proud of himself, and he felt a twinge guilty for feeling that way. The child's eyes were big and round, almost like Sora's though not nearly as blue. It felt odd, being able to compare the two. He hadn't seen many eyes in his lifetime, so he was thrilled that he was able to remember some.

But then...

The child dropped his car.

The toy rolled a few inches and only stopped after ramming into the rubber of Riku's shoe and getting hooked in the loop of his laces.

"Oh, you're always dropping that thing," the child's mother scolded. "Maybe you should let mommy hold onto it for a while." With an apologetic smile, she held out her hand.

Riku grimaced as he knelt down to retrieve the object. He knew what was coming next. He'd have to place it in her hand...and look her in the eye.

He could already feel the color drain out of his face as he let the toy slip from his fingers into her outstretched palm.

Sora was holding his breath at this point, and, had be been sitting down, he would have been at the edge of his seat.

Riku didn't want to disappoint him, but he really didn't think he could do this again today. He was already tired and slightly queasy.

But he wasn't a quitter. It was just one more woman, one more person. Sora would be so thrilled, and Riku himself would have been happy that he broke the record from the previous day. He chewed the inside of his cheek again to focus himself, and forced his eyes upward.

The woman nudged her child. "What do we say to the nice man?"

The boy let out an incoherent string of words that Riku took to mean 'thank you,' and the two of them headed off around the corner.

As soon as they were out of sight, Sora jumped into the air, clipping a tree as he did so. "Riku! You did it! That was amazing!"

Riku tried to quell his rolling stomach. "It wasn't amazing Sora." He smiled a little anyway.

"Sure it was! You're _this_ close to conquering your biggest fear!" He gestured with his fingers to add emphasis. "I can't imagine anything more amazing than that."

"Well...um..."

Sora was back grabbing his arm and swatting him on the back, and Riku found himself just a _little_ glad that Sora had walked him to work that morning.

"Riku," Sora started a few moments later, crossing his arms behind his head as he walked. They could both see the roof of the café behind the swell of the hill. "Can I ask you something?"

"I told you, I feel fine."

"No, something different."

Riku shrugged. "Sure, what is it?"

"I'm just curious. You don't have to answer me if you don't want to, but I was just kind of wondering..."

"What Sora?"

"Well, I want to be able to help you better, and I think I may be able to understand your problem a little more if you kind of...told me what goes through your mind when you look at those people. I mean, do you feel like the world is going to swallow you up, or...I don't know, like they're going to eat you?"

Riku stopped mid step.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be nosy or anything. You don't have to—"

"No, it's okay. I'm just thinking." He frowned, looking at the ground. Actually, the sensations were rather hard to explain. When he was little, he thought he was going to get yelled at; perhaps hit with the butt of a flyaway beer bottle. That was what started the whole thing in the first place. Now that he was older, he _knew_ that wasn't going to happen. but he just couldn't shake this unexplainable, completely irrational fear of people seeing his eyes. He knew it wasn't his fault that he and his mother had the same blue irises, the same lids and dark lashes. He even knew it was wrong of his father to compare the two of them like that.

Even still, a cold chill would run up his spine, he'd lose his breath, and his stomach would twist and turn like it was trying to get rid of things he'd eaten months ago. He'd get light headed and dizzy and hypersensitive of everything around him, and the corners of his vision would go dark. He would come just short of passing out, and he really didn't know why. What was he so afraid of? He _knew_ nothing was going to happen to him. Maybe he was afraid of...

Sora tilted his head to the side, studying Riku furiously. At first he wasn't sure if it was a good idea to ask that question, but from the pensive look on Riku's face, he was starting to change his mind. Maybe it was good for him to sort through this. Apparently he hadn't given it much thought up until now.

Then he became slightly concerned, as Riku wasn't making an attempt to say anything. He looked confused, possibly upset. Then a look of denial crossed his features and lingered a few moments before quickly changing to confusion again.

Sora had gotten to know Riku pretty well, and he could tell just by watching his expressions that the answer was something he didn't want to accept.

Sora patted him gently on the back, stirring Riku from his thoughts suddenly. "I think I know what you're afraid of," he said quietly, choosing not to look up.

Riku closed his eyes.

"You're afraid of rejection."

XxX

Sora headed back down the sidewalk with his hands stuffed in his pockets. The weather had gotten cloudy again—he had previously thought it was dark because it was so early—but it didn't look like it was going to rain anytime soon. Never the less, Sora was heading back home to get his umbrella and a jacket.

He hadn't meant for their walk that morning to get so serious, especially since he was trying to make this whole thing as easy for Riku as possible. As it turned out, he had discovered the root of the problem, which he originally thought was simply a lack in closure from his father. It seemed that solving Riku was going to be difficult task at best. He wasn't discouraged at all, though. In fact, he was enthused. He had just made more progress in twenty minutes than he thought possible, and he really didn't have that far left to go. Sora was thrilled; a little overwhelmed, but thrilled none the less.

He tucked this new information in the back of his mind to sort through later. Today was shopping day and it was his job to get the groceries.

He popped into the apartment to get his coat and umbrella, as well as his car keys, and then left at a near jog to get to his car. It was parked in the back the complex in the last space on the left. He didn't particularly like it sitting all the way back there, but it was pretty much the only spot guaranteed to him every time he needed a space. He sat inside and buckled his seat belt, feeling a bit excited as he drove down the road to the nearby grocery store.

Sora actually liked grocery shopping. He had done it multiple times at home for his parents, and unlike taking out the trash, the process was pretty much the same no matter where he was. He had only done it a few times since he had moved away—originally he had traded laundry duty for shopping, but he hadn't really been diligent about it lately—Riku had ended up doing the laundry _and _the shopping on more than one occasion. He supposed that since he was off work today, and he wanted to alleviate at least some of the stress from his roommate, that this would be a productive way to spend the afternoon. He heaved a cart out of the cart corral and pushed it towards the automatic doors.

He was greeted with the scent of bread, citrus and laundry detergents, and couldn't help but smile. This was a chore that he could do without much trouble. The familiar scents and bright lights made him happy for some reason, and he was eager to get started. He fished around in his pocket for the grocery list.

Sora's eyes widened.

Then he grimaced. He remembered all too clearly walking in the apartment and grabbing his jacket, keys and umbrella. That meant the list was probably still stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet. He let out a groan that could be heard all the way to the dairy section and slowly pushed the basket along. He wasn't about to drive all the way home just to get a piece of paper. Though it was fairly important for this trip, he figured he could remember at least some of the items off the top of his head.

A few products of immediate need flashed through his mind, and he figured he could jog the rest of his memory when he wandered through the aisles. He walked casually down the bread and grain aisle, stopping a few feet from the wall of pastries, loaves and crackers. It was here that he found another reason that leaving the list at home was not a smart thing to do.

Each week, Riku had painstakingly taken inventory of the items in the kitchen. Not only did he write down what they needed and the quantity, he also wrote down the type. Sora couldn't be expected to do such things. As he had explained to Riku on more than one occasion, minor details were simply not in his nature to remember. Perhaps he should have trained himself to care a bit more.

Before him sat seventeen different types of bread, all of which were in similar packaging. He knew he had seen this wall of bread before. He had never been overwhelmed before, simply because he had that reliable little compass; that reassuring piece of paper tucked neatly in the child safety seat. Now he was completely lost. There were about three different brands of white, the same amount for wheat, a half a dozen brands of potato and egg breads, and then a whole wall of specialty grain breads that Sora could barely pronounce. He supposed he remembered all of their bread being white, but he wasn't sure about which brand to buy. In the end, he just closed his eyes and selected two the first brand he touched.

Setting it in the basket and moving on without looking back, Sora wiped his hand over his brow. Hopefully everything else wouldn't be this difficult. How many types of milk could there be?

As it turned out, there were more types of milk than there were types of bread. The glass freezer full made his head spin. He would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all if he hadn't been so panicked. Who on Earth needed to have milk packaged in so many ways? If all of it came in the plastic jug he was used to buying, he was certain a large percentage of his confusion would have been reduced. He was happy that he at least remembered the packaging, and that he was able to disregard all of the cartons, glass containers and funky shaped single serving bottles.

As he feared, there were still several types of milk to pick from. All along he thought he had been drinking plain and simple milk from a cow, but apparently, he had only been drinking some mystery liquid where only a small percentage of it was actually what he thought it was. Here, he utilized the same tactic as he had with the bread, and simply closed his eyes and pulled.

He faintly wondered, as he headed down the produce aisle, what Riku would think of his guess-and-hope method of shopping. If he ended up grabbing the wrong types, would Riku still be able to prepare his meals? He hoped his roommate would be able to improvise.

Just in case, he bought a half a dozen apples and a few packages of processed deli meat.

With his roommate on his mind, Sora couldn't help but hope that he felt better. When he left him earlier that morning, Riku looked thoughtful and a little on the depressed side. It occurred to him that he could have been a tad on the embarrassed side as well. He would make time to have a long talk with him when he got home.

With more fruit in the bottom of his basket, he headed to the household items aisle for soap.

Sora adored the soap aisle, and he didn't find it to be one of his feminine qualities either. He just found a personal thrill in being clean, and just liked the option of what he would smell like when he came out of the shower. Perhaps it was one of his feminine qualities after all...

Either way, he headed down the aisle, sniffing the spring rains and the floral peaches. In the end, he decided on the Irish mist and morning dew, because they seemed to be the least offensive to his masculinity.

He settled the items in his shopping cart and finished the rest of his shopping.

In the end, Sora had managed to rack up a fairly hefty bill, and was kind of dreading showing it to Riku when he returned home. A bit of explaining and some carefully planted compliments would have to be utilized. He strung the bags on his arms and denied help from the bagging boy. Quickly, he headed to the car, deposited his packages and drove back home.

It had only started to sprinkle as Sora scurried to the door of the apartment. Apparently he hadn't needed his umbrella or jacket at all. Rather than dwell on how much it angered him, he slid all of the items into their respective cabinets. This was also something he had struggled a bit with, as he couldn't recall where things were supposed to go. Frustrated, he simply guessed, and decided to take a well-deserved nap until Riku got home.

* * *

A lot of this story is told from personal experience cough Sora's parts cough I enjoy sniffing different types of soap, laundry detergent and the like, though I like the girly ones too. I'm very forgetful, and yes, (as mentioned in chapter one) I've dribbled gas on the outside of the car. I'm also prone to being ridiculous. I don't get overwhelmed with the products in the store (I love almost all types of bread), but I do find it confounding as to why there are so many different brands. Um, if there are two brands, both for the same type of bread (ie: white), nine times out of ten I'm going to buy the cheaper one. Meh. As for my cabinets, it seems they're arranged differently every time I open them. I have no idea where anything goes anymore. XD


	13. Patience

I'm sure I look like a liar now, don't I? XD I'm so sorry for the lack in updating. I was all set to adhere to my schedule, but a nasty case of writer's block set in. (My usual problem is finding the time to actually _do_ the work). Then, just as I picked up writing again, my lovely computer developed some very frustrating system issues. Luckily I was able to recover my work, but it was quite a scare! Anyway, I'm terribly sorry that I didn't get things done as timely as I said I would, but here's the next chapter anyway. Thanks so much for sticking with this thing so long. Your feedback really means a lot to me.

Disclaimer: I don't own, so don't sue

* * *

Sora barely heard the small click at the door when Riku entered. He was having a somewhat amusing dream, and he enjoyed his slumber so much that he was reluctant to get up. Still, he didn't want Riku to notice that he had probably been drooling all over the pillows, so he forced himself to open his eyes.

Riku strode in quietly and blinked in surprise when he saw Sora sit up on the couch. Up until then he hadn't even noticed that he was in the room.

"Ooooh, you're home." Sora yawned, raking his hands through his hair. "How was work?"

"Uh, fine." Riku shifted nervously. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah, but it's okay." He yawned again. "I was going to get up anyway."

"Were you now?"

"...Yes."

Riku shrugged and headed into the kitchenette. He rummaged around for a bit, stopped, then rummaged around a bit more. Sora took this time to stretch again and pull himself from his still lethargic state, but he did wonder dimly what Riku was doing in there. It occurred to him that he was hunting for food or something, and that was all well and good until Sora realized he was actually _hunting_ for it. He grimaced. "Um, Riku I went to the store today."

Riku leaned in from the kitchenette; his hair had fallen over both shoulders in his search. "I noticed we had more...stuff. Um...did you put the groceries away?"

Sora craned his neck over the couch. "It's not my fault your cabinet arrangement is so complicated. I just put things where I thought they should go."

"But you put the bread in the vegetable crisper."

"Key words being _thought_ and _should."_

Riku smirked and returned to his rummaging, but Sora presumed he was rearranging. He folded his arms and huffed, deciding that he would eventually figure out the layout of the kitchen—whether or not it would be_ soon_ was a different matter entirely. Riku returned to the living room a short while later though, crossing the room slowly to sit down in the chair. He leaned back and blew out a plume of air at the ceiling.

Sora regarded him curiously. "Rough day at work?"

"No. Not really." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair a few times. "I just did a lot of thinking today, that's all."

"Really?" Sora perked up and crawled to the side of the couch nearest Riku. "What about?"

"Just what we talked about earlier."

"Oh," he rubbed his chin. "Did you come up with something?"

"Um," Riku looked a bit nervous again. "I don't really know how to put it."

"Put it the best way you can."

Riku nodded. "Well, I'm not sure I like the idea of...being afraid of what people think of me, but I guess it makes a lot of sense. It's just kind of hard to wrap my brain around."

Sora smiled. "I can understand that."

"I don't like it."

"I can understand that, too."

Riku shifted in his seat. "I guess...I guess it's just something I'm going to have to work on. It's just really weird, you know. I've always considered myself a pretty normal person. I don't want to have any idiosyncrasies, any abnormalities, anything _wrong_ with me. I'm sure you can see why." He pulled at the ends of his hair. "I don't want to think that other people bother me because I've really been trying to get past...well, the past. I suppose forgetting about it didn't really work."

Sora nodded and chewed his lip.

"But...I know what to do now...at least, I'm pretty sure I know. I think I'm getting better."

Sora grinned; he was barely able to keep himself contained. He had worried that he had crossed a line earlier. He was pretty sure he was right, but he wasn't positive. He couldn't have known if he was completely off the mark, or if he even had the right to make such a conclusion. The last thing he wanted to do was make Riku feel even worse about himself. As it seemed though, what he did had actually helped. He wanted nothing more than Riku's closure, and he didn't quite know how to react now that he saw it coming through. Sora found himself feeling accomplished, and somehow...he felt... complete too.

"Riku," Sora said, gripping the side of the couch.

Riku looked up at him underneath his long bangs, flushing a bit as he spoke. "I had to put the raspberry cream twists under the counter this morning," his blush increased. "While I was up there...I...managed to look at a few people."

Sora didn't think it was possible for his smile to get any wider. He was so happy he actually stood up. "Riku, I don't even know what to say. I'm so proud of you."

Riku looked up at him, eyes meeting Sora's without the bounds of hesitancy or fear. Almost reflexively, as if his body was moving on a compulsion he couldn't fight, he wrapped his arms around Sora's waist, and pulled him forward into an embrace. "Thank you so much, Sora. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

XxX

Sora decided to walk Riku to work the next day anyway, even though he didn't have a particular reason to anymore. Both of them liked the company, and Sora supposed that the sacrifice of almost an hour (in total) of extra sleep was worth it.

"You know something," Sora said as he fell into step with Riku on the sidewalk. He crossed his arms behind his head as he walked, smiling softly.

Riku lifted a silver eyebrow. "What?"

"I think we should celebrate. This is pretty huge, don't you think?"

Riku stuffed his hands in his pockets, chuckling lightly. "If you really want to, sure. How should we celebrate?"

Sora tilted his chin upward. Throwing a party seemed a bit excessive, and just buying some balloons and signing a card didn't seem like enough. "Why don't we...hmm...have a celebration dinner or something?" He poked him in the shoulder. "As much as I'd like to, I don't think that having me cook is a good idea, and having you cook would completely defeat the purpose."

"Not that I would be able to find any of the ingredients in the first place."

"Shut up."

Riku snickered.

"_Anyway,_" Sora started again, punching him in the arm for good measure. "I'll even buy, provided of course that you don't order the most expensive item on the menu."

"Is the most expensive item steak tartare, or a large fry?"

Sora grinned. "Somewhere in the middle."

Riku couldn't help but smile. It had been a while since he had eaten anything than his own cooking, and it had been even longer since he had eaten anywhere other than his own home. He supposed he would allow this little indulgence, even if he wasn't completely sure it was necessary.

"Okay." He said simply.

Sora looked thrilled. "Good. We can just go after we get home from work."

Riku nodded, already seeing the top of the coffee shop over the crest of the hill. "That's fine with me. I'll see you later, then."

Sora waved goodbye then started heading back. Riku shook his head and headed into the café.

The little bell greeted him as it did every morning. There was the same smell of roasted coffee beans, the same crowd of people seated at the tables, and the same glum looking Roxas standing up only with the aid of his broom.

But Riku didn't feel the same. He didn't feel the cloud of indifference, or lately, the dark heaviness hanging over his head. He felt lighter, refreshed, as if this whole morning experience had been rewritten; as if _he_ had been rewritten.

He actually greeted Roxas and his boss when he walked in. He even smiled as he started prep work in the kitchen.

As he started washing his hands, he heard a small verbal exchange outside the door, but he assumed it was just the same conversation he had heard before. Since the cranberry scone incident, Roxas had been more or less drafted to the back of the house until he was satisfactorily versed in baking. The level of satisfaction was regularly debated, however, because Roxas' own standards were quite a bit lower than that of his employer. The discussion often took place just outside of the kitchen door, but up until now—because of his own internal discrepancies—he was unable to enjoy it properly. Now though, he listened to the frequent outbursts with a chuckle, and just waited for the outcome. All three of them knew Roxas was inevitably going to lose.

As if on cue, Roxas slumped through door to the kitchen. Riku looked up at him and tried his best to stifle his grin, but perhaps it wasn't working out as best he thought. Roxas regarded him with an evil eye. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm rolling out—"

"I _know_ that," he snapped, roughly sitting down on a nearby stool. He examined Riku carefully, noting that there was still a lot of prep work to be done. With a shrug he started tipping back and forth on the legs of the stool. "I meant...ugh, never mind."

Riku shrugged and continued his work, while Roxas continued to watch him carefully. There was something a wee bit..._off_ about Riku this morning, he decided with conviction. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but the air in the kitchen seemed a bit different. He changed the direction that he was tipping the stool so he could watch better. It seemed there was a certain strangeness about Riku indeed, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure it out. Given his current bad mood involving the results of the small war he and his boss had, his feeling of perplexity seemed aggravate him even further. He was never one for puzzles anyway. He simply didn't have the patience. "What?" He deadpanned, ignoring the fact that he had already directed that one word question at Riku once before.

"What?"

"What's with you today?"

Riku lifted a silver eyebrow. "I don't really know what you're talking about."

Roxas scowled. "Don't give me that. You look different somehow."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." He searched the counter for something sweet to pop in his mouth. To his left, he spotted half a bowl of toasted almond slivers. He supposed that would have to do for now. "Did you get a girlfriend or something?"

Riku floured the counter. "No, nothing like that."

Roxas started blushing madly. "Well, maybe you already _had_ a girlfriend, and she finally agreed to let you—"

Riku's face immediately turned three shades of red. "No! It's not that either! Geez, I don't know how you come up with these things."

Roxas shrugged, shaking more almonds into his open hand. "Well, it has to be something. You're practically glowing this morning. I've seen something like that before. I had this friend once, who..."

Then Roxas proceeded to tell him a long story in varying detail about some friend of his' sexual misadventures. Riku glanced up and noticed that he was blushing through some of the more detailed parts, and his expression read that of someone who didn't really want to talk about it. That was perfectly fine, because he really didn't want to hear about it. Most of the story didn't make any sense, and the rest of it was made up of Roxas' own opinions about the issue. Somehow, Riku didn't think this related to him anymore.

"That's pretty much what happened," he concluded, reaching for another bowl, this time filled with pralines. "Although in my opinion, everything could have been avoided if she didn't invite them over in the first place, like I said."

Riku promptly swatted his hand with a towel. "Stop eating the ingredients. I need those."

"Everything we make here is just as good plain."

"Really?" Riku scoffed, heading to the refrigerator. "I think it's going to be a little difficult to make chocolate fudge praline-almond brownies without two of the major ingredients."

"Chocolate and—"

"Pralines and almonds!"

Roxas shrugged licking the sugar off of his digits. "Whatever. Anyway, what were we talking about again? I think it was something about in-laws, but I can't be certain."

Riku stared pointedly at him and extended his hand for the bowl.

Roxas deposited it reluctantly, but suddenly seemed to remember something. "Oh that's right, we were talking about you and your sudden change in demeanor. So are you going to tell me what it is, or do I have to keep guessing?"

Riku had the urge to make sure it was Roxas he was talking to and not Sora. "No, please don't." He shrugged. "I guess I just feel different today."

"Is it safe for you to be around food?"

"I don't feel sick. I feel...good."

Roxas nodded. "Well, I have to agree. You look a little better than you have before; brighter maybe. That's good, I suppose, although it would be nice if you'd tell the rest of the class why."

At that moment, the door burst open, and the two boys' boss popped in. "Cut the chit-chat back here. I need some more brownies, Riku. Roxas, what are you doing?"

Roxas hopped off the stool and pretended to hunt for an appliance in the cabinets. "I'm helping."

"Rather, eating the ingredients like movie snacks," Riku muttered, which rewarded him a growl.

"Uh, just see that all the work gets done, okay?" With that, he disappeared behind the doors and Roxas gladly sat back up on the stool. "That was close."

"I know. You almost got caught for doing something you do everyday."

"Hey...that's not true. I...actually, that _is_ true."

Riku slid a clean bowl beside him on the counter. "Go wash your hands. You can at least replace what you ate."

Roxas grumbled a bit, but headed off anyway.

XxX

Riku headed home that evening feeling better than he had in ages. He was surprised to find that there were things on his way home that he hadn't noticed before. He was a bit taken aback that things on the route he took everyday were actually new to him, but he was more than willing to take a mental note of them. There were some interesting items above ground-level.

When he entered the apartment, he was surprised to find that Sora was not home. Usually Sora was inside, on the couch and full before Riku even got in the building. He scratched his head and decided to tidy up a little to pass the time.

A few minutes later, the door flew open, and in bounded Sora who looked as though he had just been dangling over an active volcano. "I'm so sorry I'm late!" He screeched, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it to catch his breath. "My drawer was off by, I kid you not, seventeen cents. They wouldn't let me leave. I thought they were going to _fire_ me."

"They probably wouldn't do that."

"You never know with those people. They're crazy. Anyway, I managed to find some change in my pocket, and there was some on the floor underneath the cabinet. I barely made it."

"Are you hungry?"

"Famished."

Riku grinned. "I'd feel bad if you had to pay for our food now, especially after this incident."

Sora waved him away. "Forget it. I said I'd pay and I am. Besides, I've got plastic." He pulled out his wallet triumphantly to add emphasis. "Let's get going."

Riku shrugged and followed him out the door, unsure if Sora even knew where they were going to go.

Sora vague idea of where he wanted to eat. Though he wasn't exactly new to the neighborhood anymore, he still had a little trouble getting around. He just assumed directional ineptness was something he was born with. He had seen a fairly nice restaurant somewhere though, and he was pretty sure he could remember where it was. He was trying his best to look like he knew where he was going, and thankfully, Riku didn't seem to notice anything different. They quickly passed the complexes, and they found themselves in the main part of town.

"I really appreciate this, Sora," Riku said as the number of people around them increased. Before, he might have had difficulty in large crowds, but now he was fairly comfortable.

"Please, this is totally worth it. Besides, I need to walk off the stress of work today."

Riku was somewhat amused. "Now what happened exactly? How is seventeen cents even close to an alarming number?"

"Riku, you don't understand," he said pointedly. "I have _never ever_ been off by that much before. It was all because of that stupid denim jacket."

"Denim jacket?"

"Yes, some woman wanted to buy it for the sale price that we had last week, but...Oh, it's better if I explain it from the beginning."

Riku listened with even more amusement than before to Sora's rant about the trials and tribulations of retail, and some convoluted story about a denim jacket, a crying baby and stain on a pair of canvas shoes. Now he knew why Roxas liked talking to Sora. They were practically the same person.

As Sora prattled on, the street opened up into a densely populated area, complete with several eateries and other shops. They passed by a fast food stop, a club, and a bar with so many people inside that several had to sit on the sidewalk with their drinks clutched in their hands. Riku wrinkled his nose.

"Anyway, the whole situation could have been avoided if she had just taken the coupon like I suggested," he finished. Suddenly his eyes lit up. He recognized a few landmarks. "Yeah, it's just up ahead of those people." He pointed and quickened his pace. Riku followed.

Just ahead of them was a quaint little restaurant, perhaps a few square feet bigger than the café Riku worked at. There wasn't a huge crowd, but it wasn't empty. It looked decent, and Riku didn't really have any complaints, as he was being treated, and he was hungry anyway.

Sora just smiled as though he hadn't expected the building to be there. "Come on," he said excitedly, yanking Riku's arm as he pushed open the door. "I'm starving."

The hostess greeted them with a warm smile. Her long dark hair swept past her waist as she hunted for some menus in the podium. "Welcome," She adjusted her nametag with the name "Tifa" neatly printed on it. "Is it just the two of you?"

Sora nodded excitedly, and he was barely able to contain the drool from running out of his mouth. The smells that were coming from the kitchen were positively amazing.

"Okay, follow me please." She smiled again and led them to a table near the window. Above it hung a lamp with bits of colored glass and marbles made into it. "Your server will be with you shortly." With that she slid the menus down in front of them and headed off to the doorway to greet another group of guests.

"Riku, you have no idea how hungry I am."

"I have a pretty good idea."

He shrugged and flipped open the menu, scanning for nothing in particular. Every item sounded fantastic. "Riku," he groaned, "how am I supposed to pick?"

"Pick it like you do everything else: close your eyes and point."

"That's not fair. I don't...actually that's a good idea."

Moments later they were greeted with a female server. She carried the same warm smile that the hostess had. "Good evening gentlemen, I'm Aerith and I'll be your waitress." She searched the confines of her apron for a small clipboard. "Can I start you off with anything to drink?"

"Water," Riku replied.

"Lemonade."

She nodded and quickly wrote the orders down. "Alright, I'll be back in just a bit." She smiled again and headed off to the kitchen. Sora leaned on his elbow, examining the menu carefully. He frowned and closed his eyes and pointed. Opening one eye, he glanced down, and was excited to find he picked something delicious sounding. "Hey, it worked."

Riku shook his head. "You...are really weird."

"It was _your _suggestion."

"I know, but still. You're just a very strange person."

Sora pouted. "I am not."

"Yes, you are, but it's not a bad thing."

Aerith returned with their drinks and then she pulled out her pad and pen. "Are you ready to order gentlemen?"

Both of them relayed their orders, but Sora added two appetizers to his. Riku rolled his eyes.

"I was hungry."

Aerith nodded and clicked her pen. "Alright. I'll have all of this out to you in just a little while." She smiled and headed off to the kitchen again.

"I'm so excited!" Sora squealed, rubbing his hands together. "This is going to be delicious!"

"Uh...yeah."

The two conversed a little more until their meals were brought out to them. They briefly talked about Riku's day at work, the weather, and Sora's personal opinion about the food. The dinner was actually quite good, the two of them decided. Sora was glad he ordered the appetizers. They conversed a little bit more about the events of the day and went over a few other random items. The dinner celebration turned out to be an enjoyable experience for the both of them. Sora purposefully decided not to talk about the reason for the whole event, because he didn't want to accidentally touch on anything sensitive. The whole point was for both of them to relax a little.

After dessert, which Sora insisted they have, they exited the small restaurant, but not before leaving a generous tip.

"Thanks again, Sora." Riku said once they headed out the door, waving goodbye to Tifa. "I really appreciate it."

"Will you stop thanking me already?" Sora grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I wanted to do it. Besides, it was fun."

"Yeah."

They headed down the street, but during their stay at the restaurant, it seemed to get even more crowded. The fast food restaurant they had first passed was now completely spilling out the door mixing in with the dancers from the club one building over. Sora and Riku had to push through a large group of them in order to stay on the sidewalk. It seemed as soon as they were past that group though, another one immediately followed. This time they found themselves mixed in with the patrons of the bar.

"Geez," Sora frowned, barely dodging a particularly inebriated individual. "It sure got crowded quickly."

"It's after ten. What do you expect?"

"I guess." He stumbled forward trying not to run into a small group of women. "Let's hurry up and get home. This is nuts."

Riku nodded and picked his way through, but someone backed into him rather forcefully.

"Hey, you need to calm down!"

"Cut it out. Watch who you're talking to like that!"

Riku grimaced. It looked like a bar fight was starting and the last thing he wanted to do was get in the middle of it. He peered a bit further ahead of him and caught sight of two individuals in particular, and then he saw some raised fists. People were starting to shout and cheer, and one person threatened to call the police.

"Hey, Riku, let's go around this way." Sora tugged his sleeve and they headed towards the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.

The two fighting patrons stumbled out of the mob as one jumped on top of the other.

"Wow," Sora winced, stopping momentarily to watch. "Um...didn't expect to see that."

"I know." Riku stopped as well. The two quarreling men rolled around on the ground, punching and kicking. Apparently the person that threatened to call the police had followed through, because a few moments later, there were sirens in the distance.

The two of them didn't seem to notice though.

Riku and Sora backed up a little to get out of the way of the police cars as they drove up. A policeman brushed Sora's shoulder as he ran forward to stop the fight.

Another one followed out of the car to help his partner, and they managed to pull them apart.

"Alright," the officer said, tugging one man towards the police car. "Let's go."

Riku's mouth dropped open. "Dad?"


	14. Resolution

This is the final chapter of Give Way. I want to thank everyone who reviewed me, and everyone that didn't review me but read my fic anyway. Words can't express my appreciation.

This chapter is a little more dialogue heavy than the others, simply because there's a lot that needs to be said. Hopefully you won't find it bothersome.

Disclaimer: I don't own KH or the characters.

* * *

The crowd dissipated a little, as the appearance of officers alarmed a few. Sora was glad that he could at least see what was immediately in front of him, but he would have gladly given up that privilege had he known Riku would have such an expression on his face.

Utter surprise was a shamefully inaccurate description.

"Dad?" he muttered again, Riku's eyebrows lifted briefly before dipping into a frown.

Sora grimaced. He himself was more than a little taken aback at the situation, but he did have a distinctly powerful sensation of sympathy for Riku. "Riku," he said cautiously, stepping forward as the officers took his father to one car for questioning, and the other combatant to another.

"You know this guy?" one of the officers asked, pulling out a pad and a pen.

Riku didn't even remember that the officer was standing next to him, and was startled when the clear voice met his ears. "Huh?"

"Do you know this guy?" he asked again. "This your dad?"

Riku gave a half nod, watching with a feeling of disbelief and horror as they handcuffed his father, patted him down, and promptly loaded him into the car.

"Okay," the officer said, squeezing a bit of sympathy into his voice. "He's going down to the station for a little while to sober up; he'll spend the night."

Riku nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek.

"If you want to come down to the station to ask questions, or see about him," he paused to scribble something down on the pad. "You can go here." He gave another brief look of sympathy before heading to the car with the other officers.

Sora stepped forward again, not quite sure about what he should do. He chewed his lip and put a hand on his shoulder. "Do...do you want to go?"

His father's head was planted firmly against the window of the back passenger seat. He seemed to be saying something, but his voice was muffled by the thick glass and the distance between he and Riku. His cheeks were red and a bit shiny, Riku observed, and the five O' clock shadow had erupted to a scraggly mop, but not quite a beard.

Suddenly, his pink eyes shifted a little, then widened.

It appeared as though he had just spotted Riku.

Both men held their breaths for long moments, neither knowing what to do or say. People walked past the car, past Riku, bumping into him awkwardly, offering muttered apologies and murmurs of sympathy, all of which fell on unhearing ears. No one was part of the world right then. It was just the two of them, suspended in a glass sphere of muted noises and dim lights, confusion, disappointment and shame.

Riku was the first to avert his eyes. He shook his head disappointedly at the ground, mindful of the red eyes still slowly taking him in, one particle at a time; and the hand placed gently on his shoulder.

The car drove off shortly after that, taking with it his father, the bright, flashing lights, the stench of alcohol, and all that had made his past what it was. He could let it all go, let it cling to the police car like the paint, the number and the license plate, and the man strapped to the backseat with a seatbelt. He didn't have any obligations to this man anymore. Nothing had changed after all; there was nothing he had to try to salvage, nothing he _needed_ to try and salvage. He had been given overwhelming proof that _this_ very moment could be his closure, however unconventional it was.

There didn't have to be a fairly-tale storybook happy ending. They didn't need to come together and embrace like old friends returning to each other after years of unnecessary fighting. They didn't have to mend. They could just _be_.

Riku had known things weren't going to turn out like that for a while now. He had accepted it. He knew the two of them weren't going to be on friendly terms. It was fine with him, it was the way he _wanted _it.

But there was something...

There was something coming away from him, something unraveling inside him as the police car traveled down the street. It was as though there was a spool inside him and the thin thread was tugging him forward, threatening to leave him forever with no hope of returning once it had gone. The thread wrapped around the corner, through the people, past side walks, newspaper stands, uncaring who it managed to tangle in it. It was unrelenting; unstoppable, final.

If he let the spool unwind, he would surely fall apart.

This was not something he could just accept. No, it was true he didn't want to be on familiar terms with this man. He didn't even want to have anything to do with him. But he couldn't just let him leave; let him carry on doing as he wished with no obligations to his son, or his ex-wife, or the world. Riku had to let him know; let him understand what kind of damage he had truly done to him. His father had to know _his_ side, how _he_ felt, how the whole thing impacted _him_.

Riku had heard how much his father struggled with the divorce, how hard of a hand life had dealt him. He knew his father was going through difficult times now, even if some of it was self-induced. But now it was time for him to learn what Riku had been through. His father had to know about his struggles, about how growing up with that man had inhibited his own personal growth, how hard life was for people other than his father. If he did not get this message across, Riku knew he would not be able to completely move on.

"Riku," Sora started again, shaking his shoulder a little. "Do you want to go?"

He clenched his fist. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I really do."

Sora nodded slowly. "Okay. Well, it's probably going to be a long walk. I could drive us…if you want."

Riku scratched his head. "You don't have to go with me. I don't want you to feel like you have to or anything."

"No, I want to, I mean, if you don't mind." Sora toed the ground. "I don't think this is something you should have to do by yourself."

"You really want to come?"

"Kind of...yes."

Riku smiled a little. "Thanks, Sora."

"You're welcome."

The two of them walked down the rest of the sidewalk and headed to the parking lot of the apartment complex. Neither of them said a word during the trip; their thoughts satisfied any need for conversation.

When they stood on the back parking lot, Sora headed to his car, but stopped suddenly when Riku cleared his throat. "Um, Sora, maybe I should drive."

"Why?"

Riku shrugged. "I know the town a little better than you, that's all." He smiled. "I've never had a reason to go to the police station before, but I could probably find it easier."

Sora nodded. "Okay." He then turned to follow Riku down the dark parking lot to where he parked. It occurred to Sora that he had never even seen Riku's car, much less been inside it.

Riku headed to the far end of the lot to a car perpendicularly parked against the concrete walk way. It was a fairly nice looking car; not fancy, but it looked clean. He opened the door and sat inside, reaching over to unlock the door on Sora's side. As Sora sat down, he was met with the warm scent of carpet and...heat. He remembered that Riku walked to work every day, and didn't really go anywhere else.

He sat down into the firm seats and buckled in, watching out of the corner of his eye as Riku did the same.

"Okay," he sighed, starting the engine. "Here we go. Uh, please excuse the sad condition of my car. I haven't cleaned it in a while."

Sora waved him off. The interior was spotless save for a small layer of dust on the dashboard. Unlike Sora's vehicle, this one didn't have crumpled up maps strewn on the floor, a pair of running shoes in the back, and gum wrappers jammed in the glove compartment. "Don't worry about it. My car is easily ten times worse."

Riku chuckled humorlessly. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Sora added, sure that he didn't want the conversation to die so quickly. Riku was a hard person to read at times, but he was sure his thoughts weren't pleasant at this point. He didn't want him dwelling on whatever they were. He felt obligated to at least keep this moment light. "It's really messy. Um, there's a lot of junk in there."

"Hmm."

"...And it smells bad too."

Riku nodded slightly.

"Seriously, the smell is sometimes overwhelming. I left half of a container of yogurt in there for uh...a...long time. After I cleaned it up, I had to keep the windows down for the entire winter until it aired out."

Riku didn't even respond.

"...Yeah, that's my car."

He was again met with silence. Only slightly discouraged, Sora leaned forward. "There's a lion in the back seat."

Silence.

"It's pawing at the backside of your chair."

More silence.

"If you don't hurry up and acknowledge that I'm talking to you, it's going to feed you to the cubs in the trunk."

There was a moment of silence, then Riku quirked an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Sora sighed with extra exasperation and flopped back against the seat. "No."

"Oh, okay."

Sora's lower lip jutted out. "So...what are you thinking about?" Since his initial plan of keeping things light hadn't worked out so well, he thought he might as well tackle the issue head on.

"Um..." he smiled sheepishly. "It's not really anything. I can't really describe it to you."

"Are you upset?"

"Kind of, but I'm not exactly sad or angry. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah, it does." Sora mused. "It's like a couple of things at the same time; not so much one or the other?"

Riku nodded. "Sometimes it amazes me how well you can read me."

Sora had to stifle a snort. He had been thinking just the opposite a few moments ago. "Not really. Sometimes you're quite the enigma."

Riku shook his head as he turned the corner. "I think you know me better than you think you do."

"Is that creepy?"

"Hmm, well, it kind of sounds that way out loud, but it isn't exactly weird. It's kind of..."

Sora leaned forward in the seat, worried that perhaps he had indeed treaded on some territory he wasn't supposed to. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him away because of some unexplainable attachment issues. "What? It's kind of what?"

Riku chuckled a little at Sora's alarm. This time it did contain a little humor, but Sora was too panic stricken to notice. "It's kind of nice, Sora."

"Oooh," he let out a deep breath and flopped back against the seat again, feeling as if his mind had just released a two and a half ton collection of dumbbells. "That's a relief. In that case, I'm glad."

Riku chuckled again and stopped at a stoplight and took the moment to look at Sora sideways. "How do you do that?"

"How do I do what?" He was still trying to catch his breath.

"How do you always know what to say; what to do?" He lifted an eyebrow. He had a strong feeling of admiration towards Sora these last few days, especially since all of his help seemed to be paying off. There was something amazing about him, something strong, and powerful, and just all around _good._ He couldn't help but wonder if he had had some prior experience, or training in his history. Maybe he was just naturally gifted.

Sora flushed a little and shrugged. "Oh...I don't really do anything. I kind of just voice the stuff you already know."

"Nah, you do more than that."

"Um..." The color on his face darkened a shade. "I don't know. I mean, I guess..." he scrunched his eyebrows together in concentration. "Sometimes I just _know_ what you need to do or hear...like I can feel it. Sometimes I just want to help you so badly that words just fly out of my mouth."

"Wow. Really?"

"Well," he scratched his head. "Sometimes I just guess and cross my fingers. Actually, that's what I do most of the time. I honestly have no idea what I'm doing."

"Sora..."

"What?"

Riku shook his head dismissively. "It's nothing. I'm just...really glad I met you."

Sora grinned. "I'm glad I met you, too."

The two of them finished the trip in silence.

XxX

When they arrived at the police station, Riku was the first one to exit the car. Sora noticed that he had blanched a little, but he didn't look nervous like he expected him to. Had they not been doing something so serious, he would have smiled.

Riku pushed open the glass doors and walked in to the receptionist's desk. After a few moments of conversation, the two of them were directed to an office in which an officer sat. He fussed with some paperwork briefly, then noted the two of them with a half smile before handing them a stack of paperwork as well.

"Fill this out and I'll let you talk to whoever you want to talk to."

The officer had led them to a small holding facility at the end of a maze. Sora hoped that Riku had kept track of where they had come, because he could barely remember what building they were in anymore.

There was a man curled up on one of the benches behind a wall of Plexiglas. His wrists were still bound behind his back.

"Hey," the officer snapped, rapping on the glass. "Someone's here to see you."

The man rolled over with a grunt and muttered something, but the officer ignored him and opened the door anyway.

"Try not to make this take too long."

Riku sat down heavily on one of the benches, and Sora and the officer stayed outside.

"Um...hi," came a weary greeting. Eyebrows knitted together on a brow that hadn't been washed in days. "It's...it's you."

Riku folded his hands. "Yeah, it's me."

His father shifted his position on the bench and cleared his throat. "Well, it's been a little while, hasn't it?" He grinned. "Not quite a decade this time, though. Guess I should be thankful."

"Yeah..."

"I'm um...well, I'm glad your eye looks good." He glanced up briefly at the officer standing outside the door. Though he appeared to be talking to the boy Riku came in with, he still lowered his voice. "

Anyway, sometimes I don't know my own strength so it's good it didn't bruise."

"It healed."

"Oh."

Riku folded his arms and watched him shift around nervously. Perhaps he was still intoxicated, but he was inclined to think it was something more. "Anyway, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"I have a pretty good idea what it is you're going to say." A lopsided grin made its way to his face. "I told you that I changed. This isn't a habit or anything. I've just had a rough couple of days and I needed something to make it a little easier. You can understand that, right?" He chuckled. "I didn't think things would get out of hand tonight, but it won't be a problem again in the future, okay? This was just a one time thing."

There was a certain self-assured, almost _dismissive_ tone in his voice that Riku didn't favor. He watched with widened eyes at the grin tugging at his lips, the slight sway in his movements as he talked, and the mirthful, happy-go-lucky confidence in his speech.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, I guarantee it. Just wait until tomorrow after the hangover and I'll be back on my feet again. You can't judge a person's character off of one slip up, Riku. Life's been a little hard right now, but as a whole, I'm a changed person. Trust me."

"Dad..."

He shook his head. "No, listen. I actually need to ask you a favor. All I need is a leg up. You can understand that, right? I just need a little help. Everyone needs a little help every now and then." He looked at him seriously, but Riku was looking at the floor. "All I need is a little money to pay for this charge. Once this little slip up is figured out, you'll see that I'm a changed man. I'll even pay you back."

"You want me to...what?"

His father grinned. "It's really not that much money, son. I just need you to lend me a few dollars to pay off bail."

Riku's eyes widened. "No. I'm not...no!"

"Come _on_." He urged, the slightly cheery expression on his face morphing into desperation. "I need to get out of here, Riku. I don't want to be here. It's just a little money."

"No!"

"Please, son? I'm going to change. I just need the money to get out."

"I'm not going to pay your bail."

His father bristled, then sat back on the bench. A confused, slightly perturbed look crawled across his face. "Why did you come down here? You aren't here to help me, and I can tell by the look in your eyes that you don't believe a word I'm saying." He's eyebrows sank down here. "What do you want?"

Riku swallowed and folded his hands. "I wanted to talk."

"About what?"

"To be honest, about how angry at you I am."

His father stiffened, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'm really, really angry at you, Dad. That's just what I wanted you to know." Riku sighed.

"But I already explained that—"

"That's not what I mean," he said quietly, starting to complain. "I don't believe you really want to change your life around, or whatever, but if you do, that's great; if you don't, then I can't really do anything to stop you. I'm talking about all the other stuff."

"What other stuff?"

Riku sighed and hunched forward. Now that he was getting ready to tell him, he couldn't get his thoughts together. There were so many things he needed to bring forward that they all jammed together at the exit of his mind and couldn't unfurl them. Where should he begin? His mother's letters? The loss of their relationship? The resentment? Riku pondered this for a few moments while his father waited expectantly.

"Well?"

"Dad, when I was seven, you threw a beer bottle at my head when I looked at you."

His father looked taken aback for a few minutes, blinking in surprise. A few emotions flickered across his face, but they were too quick to be recognized. "...I...don't remember that."

"You did it three more times when I was eight, and a half a dozen more times after."

"Hey, I don't know what kind of crap you're trying to pull in here, but I didn't lay a hand on you when you were growing up." He leaned forward, but his balance was off and he ended up swaying to the left.

Riku continued unhitched. "I glanced at you when you came in the door once, and you threw your hat at me. When I looked at you to ask you a math question you told me my eyes were disgusting and that I should never look at you ever again."

His father sat up straighter, eyes wide with confusion and perhaps a touch of denial. "You were just a kid. How could you possibly remember half of that stuff? _I_ don't even remember half of that stuff."

Riku stifled a snort. Given his father's current condition, that wasn't even close to a surprise. "That's not the point. The fact of the matter is that it _did_ happen, and I'm having a hard time just letting it go."

"I don't suppose forgive and forget is an option?"

Riku was tempted to get up and leave the room right then and there, but he stayed firmly planted in his seat. "I really can't do this, Dad." He said it with such finality that it made his father's face twitch ever so slightly.

There was silence between the two of them. Pleading eyes meeting the corners of ones cast downward. The air felt the same as it did a while ago as he stood outside the police car, watching his father through the glass door before the car drove away.

_Confusion, disappointment, and shame._

He was going to open his mouth to object again. He could feel the 'no' in the back of his throat, taste it on his tongue, imagine it suspended in the air in front of him as a big block of concrete.

Then Riku was hit with this overwhelming feeling of pity for this person sitting in front of him. He was consumed with denial, clinging to goals both of them knew he wasn't going to live to, hoping that simply saying them would make everything okay. Riku bit his lip as he listened to him ramble on a little bit longer about how he would change, and how he needed help with bail money, and then shook his head when he had to stop now and then to keep his head from swimming.

He saw now that his father wasn't someone to be feared anymore; that he wasn't someone that was _worth _fearing. He was a man to be pitied for his weakness; he was someone that couldn't be penalized for not living up to his potential because he would end up punishing himself later on when he hammered drinks at the bar.

The whole thing was terribly sad.

And Riku felt darned sorry for him, too.

"Dad," he interrupted, meeting the red-rimmed bloodshot eyes with the eyes of his mother. "I think you should stop."

"It shouldn't be that much money, son." He smiled sheepishly. "I saw your apartment. It shouldn't be more than a drop in the bucket for you. I'm proud of you. You've made a great life for yourself. I just want you to give me the chance to do the same—"

"Dad," he said a little more sternly. He felt strange. He felt almost powerful. The homely appearance of his father's face didn't elicit fear or doubt from him; just a feeling of pity laced with a thin thread of disgust. "I don't really think this is going to work out. I don't want to see you anymore. I don't like what you were, and I don't like what you've become."

"What?"

"You and I both know this isn't going to stop, unless you stay here and figure out what you have to do. You were lucky you didn't kill that guy with your car, but you didn't learn anything. You're still drunk and you're still in jail."

"But Riku—"

XxX

Outside, Sora was rocking back and forth on his heels eyeing the officer's badge. It occurred to him that he could have sat down, but the chairs unnerved him for some reason, and at least while he was standing, he could see what was going on behind the Plexiglas better. He couldn't hear words, but he could hear mumbles and he could see lips moving.

He raised his eyebrows because the conversation seemed to escalate. Lips were moving faster, the mumbles were more intense. He tipped forward on his toes to watch closer, and was surprised to see Riku stand up. He turned and said something else, and his father replied, but he was cut off when Riku shook his head and waved him away.

His hand was on the handle now and the door was opened, releasing with it the explosive end of sentence coming from his father. Riku didn't seem to pay any attention to it and wordlessly closed the door of the cell behind him.

Following him quickly, his father stood up and started yelling at him through the glass. He fumbled with the door, but it was nearly impossible to open because his hands were still bound. "What do you mean you're not going to pay my bail? What kind of crap are you trying to pull with me?! Come back here!"

The officer calmly made his way over and locked the door then went back to his post.

Sora's eyes widened. "Uh...what was that all about?"

"Uh..."

Alarm spread out across his features. "Riku," he persisted. "Are you okay?"

"Um...yes. Don't worry about it." He patted him gently on the shoulder. "It...it doesn't really matter I guess."

"It doesn't?"

"No."

"But Riku..."

"Really, it's okay." He smiled. Sora wasn't sure what to think. He could feel a little uncertainty floating about his being, but he noticed the small smile on his face, and felt a warm contentedness radiating from his body. "Are...are you sure?"

"Yeah." He sighed, with a little more conviction in his voice. "It's weird, but I feel good. I feel like it's time to move on."

"Oh. Just like that?"

Riku nodded. "Just like that." He could tell Sora wanted to press the issue further, and since it was just part of his nature to want to be helpful, he couldn't blame him either. After all, Riku had been rather vague. But that was how it _did_ feel. Everything was so simple now, so clear. He felt like significant weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "I know. I don't really understand it myself."

"Will you tell me what happened?" He furrowed his brow. "I'm not trying to be nosy or anything."

"No, it's okay." He opened his mouth to begin, but realized he couldn't. There was nothing to say. He couldn't describe his feelings in that cell because he didn't _have_ them anymore. It was as if all of his anxiety had been neutralized somehow. He and his father simply had a talk, and things were clearer than ever now. "We talked."

Sora gaped. "I _know_ you talked," he stood in front of Riku and folded his arms. "I saw you from out here. I just want to know...more."

Riku rolled his eyes. He'd just have to explain it to him on the way back. He doubted Sora would just let it go anyway. "Sora," he said after a brief pause, "let's go home."

* * *

FIN

I'm so glad I'm done with this thing. I have a sort of warm, almost maternal satisfaction, if that makes any sense. Is Sora and Riku's relationship too ambiguous? I tried to keep their relationship moderate to satisfy both RxS shippers and friendship supporters. That's not to say that I was too lazy to be decisive. ;) A bombardment of love just seemed like too much for this fic. If you've got clarity questions or some other thoughts, please send me a review or a PM. I'd be more than happy to respond.

Thanks again for reading!

Much Love,

KJ


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